The day of the bombings I was on Boylston Street with the finish line in sight when I turned around and headed back to the office. I’d forgotten to do something that I felt couldn’t wait. As soon as I was back at my desk a co-worker came over and told me a bomb had gone off at the finish line.
I said that was not possible. I was just there and nothing was wrong. And then he showed me the pictures. There was no time to process the shock. I had to make it home safely and reassure my family.
Now every time I stop for coffee, go back for something I’ve forgotten, or change my mind completely, I wonder what will or will not happen because I’ve changed course.
I know I would have been at the finish line at the time of the bombings but I was not. This fact makes me grateful and terrifies me at the same time.