My dog’s name is Fenway.  This is not because my family loves baseball, but because we truly love Boston.

Two of the four years that I lived there we set the record for snowfall, so when the boy I met the first weekend I was at Boston University proposed, I told him that I’d marry him, but I was moving home to Seattle. As I told a friend this weekend, when the weather got so crappy, it was hard to understand why my great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandparents, William and Mary Dyer, stayed in Boston in 1635.

That’s right, Boston is in my blood.

The coolest class I took at BU was on the History of Boston. Of course, that I got to write a term paper on an ancestor didn’t hurt, but we learned the history of our country through the streets around us.  A quirky but wonderful thing about Boston is the extra, random holidays, the main ones being Evacuation Day and of course, Patriots’ Day, also known Marathon Day to those in the Hub of the Universe.

The thing I remember most about Marathon Day was the positive atmosphere.  For someone who was just a spectator, it was like a 26.2 mile long party.  It was the coolest thing to see people with their name written on their shirt perk up when you started yelling for them that they could do it. The spot we staked out was in on Beacon, just before going into Kenmore Square.  Less than two miles before the finish line.

So despite the fact it’s been more than a decade since I’ve been there, today’s news hit hard.  Being a news junkie, I spent way too much time watching live video feeds and the boston.com live blog.  And the coolest thing I saw in the video were all of those people in yellow jackets. The volunteers.  I did not see a single one running away.  They were all running to help.  I’m not sure if you have to do something special to be a volunteer at the Boston Marathon, but it’s something that I did for the Trek Women’s Triathlon in its last year in Seattle, since I broke my toe and didn’t think I could complete it myself, and I’m guessing that many, many of those people were just ordinary folks.  Who in that moment were heroes.

What I told my son today

I’ve said it way too many times, but it never hurts to say again.  Life is short.  Tell the people that you love that you love them.  Never stop.

The helpers, the heroes, anyone who did something as small as lend someone a phone, those are the people to remember today.

All of this makes my little boobie woes seem so insignificant, but my update is all happy.  I went back to work today. And got the other drain out.  Tired & sore more quickly than I’d like, but again, my stuff is small potatoes.

So a reminder for you people. I really do love you all.