I decided to do what I used to do every single day: put on my headphones and walk. I was flooded with intense nostalgia, walking down Mass Ave and Huntington and Newbury St, just like I did for years and years. The sun was out, the weather was perfect. It was an amazing day to be back in my city.
When I thought I was ready, I made my way down another familiar street: Boylston. For those who aren't familiar with Boston or the Boston Marathon, the finish line is on Boylston St, right before Copley Square. While the streets have been open for over a month now, there is still a memorial in Copley Square.
I knew it would be emotionally intense, going down Boylston, walking past where the bombs went off, and visiting the memorial. But I didn't know how intense it was going to be for me. I found comfort in the fact that I wasn't the only one choking back tears, or hiding behind her sunglasses when the tears came forth. However, I was crying partly because of that comfort in others: the endless array of gifts and tribute really showed the solidarity between all of us. We are all in this together -- something that we easily forget, going through our day-to-day lives.
Visiting the memorial was definitely a cathartic experience. It was so wonderful being back in my city, and paying tribute to those we lost, as well as those who stepped up to save the day.