This week I arrived home to a big–and very heavy–box at my doorstep. Not expecting any packages, I first thought it was for my neighbor. Then I suspected Henry had secretly ordered 20 lbs of Pokemon cards. The return address was Colorado. Inside my big box, I found a stack of these:
The Boy and His Bike
May 21, 2013There’s something about a boy and his bike. Or maybe there’s just something about my boy and his bike, the mechanism by which he said–loud–”I can do this” and then he did and now he can so off he goes.
Running Isn’t Special
May 14, 2013Happy Day After Day After Mothers Day! I love Mothers Day because it feels like a Birth Day Birthday, which is fun to say, and I can say things to Henry like, “It is Mothers Day and so there will be no references to butts.” And he actually complies. I get to eat pancakes for lunch and pocket “coupons” for services such as “laundry“– from a boy who doesn’t know where the washing machine is.
Bears, Oh, My
May 9, 2013
Every Single Beautiful Thing
April 29, 2013This weekend a fish fell from the sky into my backyard. A 10-inch pike, to be specific. That’s not what I’m going to write about; it just seemed too significant to leave unmentioned. It arrived Saturday, lying in the grass with a bloody wound on its underside. By Sunday it was gone, either to fight the windmills or fill the stomach of a raccoon. I felt momentarily sorry for the bird that dropped it, having carried its dinner so far only to lose it.
Then I came to my senses and felt bad for the fish, dead for nothing but a scavenger. The animal kingdom is a vicious place.
But that’s the opposite of the topic at hand, which is as the title says: every single beautiful thing.
Close and Far
April 22, 2013I decided on Sunday to defer Big Sur to 2014. Everything is too raw to put myself into another marathon, one that is essentially meant to be the sequel to Boston. When it comes to Boston 2013, there is the race and there is the event, and the event can do nothing other than to serve as the corpus collosum between Boston and Big Sur.
After Thoughts from Boston 2013
April 16, 2013Thank you to everyone who has sent messages of care and concern. Boston 2013 is a day of mixed emotion for me. One of the most special moments of my life will be running the final quarter mile down Boylston Street with my son, tears filling my eyes to share such an amazing experience with him. One of the most terrifying moments of my life will be standing with my son and seeing a bomb explode 200 yards away, the loud and stunning pop followed by smoke.
No mother should ever have to lie to her frightened son: “I’m sure it wasn’t a bomb, love. I’m sure everything is fine.” But I similarly feel profoundly lucky to have had my child by my side, safe under a foil heat sheet in my arms, as more importantly, no mother should ever have to lose her child.
After yesterday, I am grateful, sad, relieved, and likewise filled with maternal warmth to have shared that marathon so closely with my son. My heart aches for those who were maimed or killed and for their families.
Following the blast, I hurried Henry away from the Finish area as sirens screamed down the streets we walked. I reassured him the entire way that everything was totally fine. After we found our people, before anyone really knew what happened, Henry and I took a picture, with confused and slightly forced smiles, which I think captures our marathon.
Peace and love.
Kristina
