Tag Archives: Boston Strong

Middle finger to the darkness

10 Monday Sep 2018

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Be loved. Be known. Love people and know people. Be so brave as to raise a hand for help when you need it. Make friends and make sure they know they matter. Be loyal to them and fight for them. Remind them what’s true and invite them to do the same when you forget. If you do some losing or you walk with someone else in their defeat, live with dignity and grace. 

It is a middle finger to the darkness.

Words by Jamie Tworkowski

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eclipse

29 Tuesday Aug 2017

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This week was the total solar eclipse. We were very near the line of totality, so we drove down south a bit to watch at a camp near Travelers Rest. (Yes, that is the name of the town.) It was such a cool experience. There was a wide open grassy space on top of a hill so we climbed to the top to wait for the sun and moon to get into position. We hung hammocks around the edge of the woods, laid out picnic blankets, and set up so many cameras and tripods. We had arrived early because we were afraid we would get stuck in traffic, so we spent the day lounging in our hammocks, reading, eating, and just hanging out. When it finally started, we moved to the middle of the open space to watch the slow transformation. To see the moon cover the sun and change the day to night for a few seconds. We had a view over the mountains and it went from sunny blue skies, to orange and purple sunset, to dusky dark and then back to bright blue again. When it was dark all the crickets started chirping in the woods and it felt like a hot summer night. Then the sun began to slowly peak out again and within a few minutes, we had sunny skies again. Amazing.

Did you get to see it??

I also sprained my foot this week. I fell down the steep hill in my backyard while I was mowing the lawn. When I got out of urgent care, I sat in my car and cried. I feel like in four years I have made so much progress. If you didn’t know me, you probably wouldn’t even notice that I had a messed up leg. It was strong and toned and I worked hard to get it that way. I bought a house. I mow my own lawn. (well not anymore!) It doesn’t hurt a LOT. Just hurts enough. But since the feeling in that foot isn’t normal, I guess I don’t know how much it really hurts and maybe its worse that what I can feel. The blessing (?) of not having properly working nerves. But guys this is hard. I feel like I’ve gone completely back to the beginning. Which I know isn’t true, but it seems like it was then. The orthopedic originally said he thought it was something else and would require immediate surgery, but he decided to take more x-rays to make sure. I sat on the bed in the x-ray room trying not to cry because I don’t know if I can handle surgery. I know I can. I’m just not ready for it. It was so many emotions. I was so scared.

As I sat in my car crying, I looked down at my booted foot and next to it, my left gas pedal. Which I haven’t used in…I don’t know two and a half years, but I had to put it back in to get myself to urgent care. So there it was. My left foot pedal. The only way I can drive when my idiot leg decides to be blown up in a bomb and then four years later to break while mowing the DANGEROUS lawn.

But you know what? I know how to drive with my left foot. And my car is equipped for that. And you know what else? I am so good at crutches. And I know how to get myself in and out of a boot in record time. I am Boston Strong and I know how to do all these things. And this time is not even near as bad as the last time. (hopefully) And yeah I’ll be out of work for a while probably. And I’ll have to sit around a lot. But I have a lot of reading and writing to do. So I guess I can catch up. And I think it’s time for my Starbucks career to wind down, so this might be a good time of searching and seeing what God has for me next.

I told my sister this was really bad timing because I have a lot of things coming up that I have to prepare for. And she asked me when would be a good time for me to break my foot? I guess never. There’s never a good time for bad things to happen. It’s a setback. It’s frustrating. But here’s to hoping that my pain and fear doesn’t eclipse what this time could mean for me.

“Eclipses of a spiritual nature help us see things differently too. When the life we thought we’d have is blotted out by something bigger and we find ourselves in the dark, we have a choice. We can either huddle in disillusionment, fear, and isolation, or we can smile in wide-eyed wonder, opening our hearts and hands and selves to each other and to something other. What feels like a totality of darkness can actually be a totality of grace if we have eyes to see it that way or if we at least have the right kind of glasses.”
Katherine Wolfe

the wound is where the light shines through

09 Friday Dec 2016

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Advent Day 9

“When you are brave, you give yourself the gift of facing and touching the torn places. The places where we’re torn to pieces can be thin places where we touch the peace of God…
What was intended to tear you apart, God intends it to set you apart.”
Ann Voskamp

“A prison cell, in which on waits, hopes… and is completely dependent on the fact that the door of freedom has to be opened from the outside, is not a bad picture of Advent.”
Dietrich Bonhoeffer

When have you seen God take what was torn and turn it into a gift? I’d love to hear your thought

*All quotations and questions taken from The Greatest Gift by Ann Voskamp

 

 

Three Years

15 Friday Apr 2016

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Three years ago I wrote these posts. Can you believe its been three years? So many ups and downs. Such a journey. The bonds we have formed with other survivors, people like Steve. Dara. Sam. Nicole. Liza. Linda… These can never be replaced. No one knows my feelings like they do. No one understands my emotions as much as they do. What a BLESSING it has been to have such a wonderful, tight knit group come out of something so tragic. I love that three years after the bomb we are even closer and I imagine thirty years down the road we will still be the best of friends. We share a bond that can never be taken away. To my survivor family, I love you guys. I couldn’t get through the hard days without you.

Today is a lot of mixed emotions. Mostly I am fine. This is the first year I haven’t gone back for the marathon so it does feel a bit like something is missing. I know it seems strange to want to go back to that place, but its more going back to my people, my city. Those who were so strong for me when I had no strength of my own. The community of survivors is what I miss on days like this. And on marathon monday I know I will be missing them even more. Knowing they are all gathered together, cheering on the next set of Boston Marathoners.

Most people now don’t know. I live in a new place. With new friends. A new job. It is weird to have people who know so little about the biggest event in my life. Some know absolutely nothing. But it isn’t something I tell people anymore. It seems so strange to bring it up. Oh yeah, I was in a bomb. My leg is a mess and yeah you know… I don’t want pity. And no one understands. So sometimes its better to just keep that part of my life in the unknown. But it’s still a part of me. It’s part of who I am. I will always bear the scars. I don’t usually think about it. But today is a day to remember… So here’s some old stuff from those first few days.

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Today I met Steve. Steve was in the ambulance with me when we rode to the hospital. He was watching the marathon with his 4 year old son. He was hurt far worse than I. But all I remember from the ambulance is him holding my hand and alternating a between telling me it was going to be ok, and yelling at the medics to find his son who was now all alone. He held my hand the whole way. i have been wondering about him. How he was doing. Did they ever find his son? So today, then the nurse told me the man who rode in the ambulance with me was hoping to see me before he left for rehab, I was of course eager to see him. He came in on a stretcher, on his way out of the hospital. when he saw me tears formed in his eyes and rolled down his cheeks. I of course started crying as well. his son had been missing when we were together in the ambulance so I inquired after him first. They foun him and he only had a small scratch on his head an was fine. Thank God. And Steve? He said he was fine. But I pushed. Really fine? No. His leg was missing from the knee down. I cried even more. My leg is useless and probably will be for a very long time, but at least I have it. Steve is going to the same rehab center that I am so as he was pulled out of my room we promised to find each other. I don’t know Steve. But I know he held my hand during some off the scariest moments of my life. And for that I will be eternally grateful.

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Rehab has three hours of physical therapy a day. That scares me. But then I remember that Meggie and I were spending almost 3 hours a day at the Y before I came here, so I got this! We were swimming almost an hour a day and I know that is the only reason I have the upper body strength to pull myself around on the walker. God was preparing me for this long before I even knew I would need the strength.  Amazing right?

Please continue to pray for pain management for all of us. It can be extremely frustrating to be in so much pain. Also continue to pray for God’s healing in each of our lives. Lastly pray for my family members who although they were not hospitalized, still experienced as much trauma as we did and who are getting very worn traveling from hospital, to hospital, surgery, to surgery. There is no way we could make it through each day without all of your prayers. Thank you so much for your faithfulness.

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I am moved to rehab. Kim and Colton and my Aunt Shari have gone. Slowly the visitors are dwindling down and people are returning to their normal lives. But what does that mean? Many of us will not be returning to normal life. Maybe ever. Our injuries will be with us. We may never walk normally again. We may never be the same as we were before. Even if we get to “normal” physically, these events will always be with us. And I can’t even process that yet. I don’t know what that will look like one month from now, one year from now, ten years from now. But I read these verses and I am comforted. My Father knows what the future looks like, and He tells me “do not be worried about your life.” I hope that comforts you. I hope that you can read these verses and find some peace. The road ahead is long. And will be very painful. But we can do it one day at a time.

25“For this reason I say to you, do not be worried about your life, as to what you will eat or what you will drink; nor for your body, as to what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing?26“Look at the birds of the air, that they do not sow, nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not worth much more than they?27“And who of you by being worried can add a single hour to his life?28“And why are you worried about clothing? Observe how the lilies of the field grow; they do not toil nor do they spin,29yet I say to you that not even Solomon in all his glory clothed himself like one of these.30“But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the furnace, will He not much more clothe you? You of little faith!31“Do not worry then, saying, ‘What will we eat?’ or ‘What will we drink?’ or ‘What will we wear for clothing?’32“For the Gentiles eagerly seek all these things; for your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things.33“But seek first His kingdom and His righteousness, and all these things will be added to you. 34“So do not worry about tomorrow; for tomorrow will care for itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.

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Anyway, there have been several comments that whenever we show up in a picture, there is utter chaos surrounding us, but we all look so peaceful. We are either laying patiently on the ground, or sitting calmly. In the midst of chaos, peace. And I never would have had a second thought about it, but several people have brought it up today. And I’m not ready to write about all that happened in those moments. The explosion etc, but I would like to address this one subject.

First of all, there must have been hundreds of angels all around us. The new Chris Tomlin song Whom Shall I Fear kept running through my head. “The God of Angel armies is always by my side”. So yes, I believe there were angels all around us. We were so close to the bomb, we should be hurt much worse, or even dead. Although our injuries are extensive, they should have been much worse. Second, Colton brought this up to me today. People keep asking “where was God in all of this?” Just look at the pictures. Look at the chaos and then look at me or Rebekah, or Peter or Kim or Colton. That’s where God was. We are His children, filled with His Spirit. In the midst of chaos, He WAS there. Third, I believe that God gave us so so much grace. Grace to think clearly. To know how to respond in trauma. To know to tie tourniquets. Or to coach people to breathe. Or to know how to communicate with the first responders. Not one of us lost control or freaked out.

Someday I’m sure I will look at the pictures. But I just want you to know today, that God was there. He was with us. We would not be where we are today if it weren’t for Him. And as we are experiencing more and more of His grace everyday, we are amazed and speechless and we just keep clinging to Him.

I know who goes before me
I know who stands behind
The God of angel armies is always by my side
The One who reigns forever
He is a friend of mine
The God of angel armies is always by my side

more terror

22 Tuesday Mar 2016

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It seems like the anniversary of the marathon can’t approach us without tragedy, fear, sadness, or anxiety. Last year was the trial. We were all dealing with giving statements, attending hearings, being bombarded by the media. This year one of our survivor community, Victoria, has had a tragic accident and is no longer with us. And now today the attacks on Brussels. I woke up to phone calls and texts from friends asking if I’m ok. I avoid the news so I didn’t even know what had happened yet. Each attack is terrible. It doesn’t make me relive what happened to us. But I do avoid seeking out stories and photos. I know what it is like. I know what it looks like. I don’t need that reminder.

The thing about all this is that things never go back to normal. Nothing is ever the same. Even as much as you try to be normal, or be how you were. You can’t get back to that. You can’t go back. And maybe that’s ok, but these intermittent attacks, like regularly scheduled reminders, beat into me the fact that I too fit into that category. One who was in a terrorist attack. One who was in a bomb. One who is a victim. A survivor of something so tragic. These bombing survivors are our family. Only they know what our lives are truly like. Only they can truly understand us. But it saddens me to see our family growing. What is happening in the world when this is so common it is no longer surprising. It is no longer something that makes you gasp and say “WHAT things like this NEVER happen!” Because they do. They happen a lot. More than we even know, I’m sure. The news doesn’t report every terrorist attack or bomb that goes off.

It used to seem so far removed. It wasn’t anywhere near us. We didn’t know anyone involved. But now, each one is a reminder. Each one slams you back down on the ground and reminds you of where you were not so long ago.

John 1:5 says : “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.” Which doesn’t seem true. It just seems dark here. But I read it over and over. The darkness can not overcome the light. And where does the light come from? It comes from God. John 8:12: “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.” But it also comes from US. We are the light of the world. Jesus told us that, Matthew 5:8: “You are the light of the world. A city on a hill cannot be hidden.” 

I feel like every time something like this happens all I have to say is “cling to Jesus”. But really, is there any other answer? We are the light, we can not be hidden, the darkness can not overcome us. So we need to cling to Jesus and keep shining our lights. And someday, the darkness will be destroyed forever. Today is not that day. Today we mourn with Brussels. Today we are sad and we remember our own experiences. We call some friends from our survivor family and make sure they are ok. We lament together. But because we have gone through these experiences, we have an understanding that others do not. We can show more love. We can help bring peace. We can bond together and show these new additions to our family what surviving looks like. And we can show them that we can continue on, together.

 

scars

22 Monday Sep 2014

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You could grieve endlessly for the loss of time and for the damage done therein. For the dead, and for your own lost self. But what the wisdom of the ages says is that we do well not to grieve on and on. And those old ones knew a thing or two and had some truth to tell. For you can grieve your heart out and in the end you are still where you were. All your grief hasn’t changed a thing. What you have lost will not be returned to you. It will always be lost. You’re left with only your scars to mark the void. All you can choose to do is go on or not. But if you go on, its knowing you carry your scars with you.

Inman
Cold Mountain

life keeps moving on

19 Thursday Jun 2014

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Or I keep moving on…

These past 2 years have been a whirlwind… I moved to Kansas City, I moved back to NY, my grandpa passed away, we got injured in the bombing, I lived in Boston for a month, moved back home with my parents, lost my job, have been in PT 3 days a week for over a year, and next week…I am moving to North Carolina. Insane. My life is insane.

I’m sorry if I didn’t tell you this in person. I am sad to leave. I am going to miss Northridge Church and all my friends and favorite places. Fuego, Javas, Esan…I’ll have to find new coffee shops and Thai food. But I am excited for this next chapter. I have my own apartment. It has two bedrooms, so I am expecting LOTS of visitors! Come anytime!

My sister is having a baby within the next few days, and I am looking forward to living near her and getting to know my niece and being able to spend more time with my sis and brother-in-law. I’m moving to the mountains. It is beautiful. I can’t wait to explore and see places I’ve never seen.

I know its huge. I’m super stressed out. My body hates me. A huge prayer request is that my back would not freak out anymore and that my stress/anxiety would dissipate. I have so much to do this next week before I leave and it is so frustrating being in constant pain and not being able to lift boxes and move things around. I am not very good at asking for help!

This is a very disjointed post, but I just wanted to let everyone know and to say goodbye and I love you. NY is my home. It always will be I think. People closest to my heart are here. I have been so blessed and so loved. Most of my memories are here. I will miss it desperately.

I WILL NOT MISS THE WINTER AND SNOW.

Also, I will have Chick-fil-a whenever I want.

Also, come visit me!

Goodbye NY!

400 days

20 Tuesday May 2014

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May 20th

400 days

The doctors said it would take 400 days to know if the surgeries worked. If my leg would work again. If I would walk. If I would ever feel anything. If I would be able to move my ankle and toes.

400 days.

Well time is up. Its been 400 days. It seems like it should be a huge milestone, but I’m sitting in a coffee shop and life is going on around me as normal. I don’t feel different today than I did yesterday. I don’t know what I expected of my 400 days. I think I expected that it would arrive and I would be back to normal. But that isn’t the case. I’m not normal. I don’t think my leg feels more than it did yesterday. I can feel things all the way down to my toes: if I rub it really hard or spray water from the shower on it. But it is by no means normal. I can go some days without wearing my brace, which is awesome, but it gives me a more defined limp and I walk much slower. My ankle is getting stronger, but my calf is still non-existent. I don’t think it will ever come back to what it was before. I still have a lot of pain there.

Today should be the ending of my book. TODAY IS THE END! I mean it’s not really the end of anything. It’s just the end of my 400 days. But that’s what I wanted my book to be about. This blog post should be a summary. It is my final chapter. The conclusion of my book. What do I want my conclusion to be. What is the takeaway? What have I learned in these 400 days? I don’t know. I just don’t. I don’t know how to put it into words. But I need to. That’s the point right? The point of writing a book. Is that I can put into words what I am learning. What I have learned.

I have learned that I am still telling an old story about who I am. After reading Shauna’s blog: Getting Out of a Life Rut, I realized I read the whole thing completely agreeing. Yes, that’s who I am. The chubby, funny girl. The sidekick. I am telling an old story about myself. That’s not who I want to be anymore. In The Holiday, Kate Winslet’s character, Iris, comes to the same realization when talking to her neighbor, Arthur.

Arthur: Iris, in the movies we have leading ladies and we have the best friend. You, I can tell, are a leading lady, but for some reason you are behaving like the best friend.

Iris: You’re so right. You’re supposed to be the leading lady of your own life! Arthur, I’ve been going to a therapist for three years, and she’s never explained anything to me that well. That was brilliant. Brutal, but brilliant.

This bomb should change my life. I should be changed. I should stop telling that old story. It isn’t who I am anymore. I think that’s a lot of what these 400 days were about. I should have used them more wisely. I should have figured this out before day 400. Have I essentially wasted 400 days of my life? Or have all these days been the culmination of this learning curve?

I need to start living the life I want to have. I can’t keep moping around waiting for something to happen to me. I need to stop acting like the best friend and start being a leading lady.

Allison Vesterfelt wrote a great blog post called Don’t Wait to be Invited to Your Life. She tells a story about how as a child she was always left out and was always waiting to be invited to things, while other children always seemed to be invited and included. But she realized it was because they were constantly putting themselves out there.

“They didn’t need someone to tell them they were good at wall ball, or that they were a great writer, or that they deserved a happy marriage. They already believed those things were true. And because they believed that, they put themselves in the game. They played with a sort of abandon. They got better and better.

I don’t need an invitation. Neither do you. What we need is a little more moxie, a little more guts. We we need is a willingness to know what we want. What we need is to practice, practice, practice—and to make a little room for ourselves on the court. “

I can’t keep waiting to be invited. I can’t keep waiting for something to HAPPEN in my life. I need to start living the life I want and I need to start being the person I want to be. I need to stop telling that old story about myself. I’ve had 400 days. As this concluding chapter closes, how am I going to change my story for the next 400?

How will you?

France Day 10

10 Saturday May 2014

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The last day! We sailed to the town of Tarascon and explored the town in the pouring rain and crazy winds.

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Everyone had umbrellas from the boat, but the wind was getting the better of them. As we wandered the deserted town we saw abandoned umbrellas everywhere. Laying dejected on the sidewalks.

IMG_8244Tarascon has winds called Black Mistral winds, meaning fierce mistral winds accompanied by pouring rain. They have mistral winds 100 days a year in Tarascon. We braved these winds and walked all over the city. Very few shops were open. We finally found a little cafe and got some pastries and espresso and sat with some other friends from the boat before venturing back out  into the rain.

Tarascon has a saint called Saint Martha. Her story is one of the most awesome stories about saints we had ever heard. There was a monster in Southern France called the Tarasque. It was a sort of dragon with a lion’s head, six short legs like a bear’s, an ox-like body covered with a turtle shell, and a scaly tail that ended in a scorpion’s sting. It ravaged cities and no one could kill it. When Saint Martha arrived in Tarascon she about the Tarasque, went to it and tamed it by singing hymns and prayers to it. She then brought it back to the city where the people, who were still terrified of the beast, killed it. Martha made them feel horrible for killing a tamed beast and converted many of the to Christianity. Crazy. 

That night we played cards and hung out with all our friends on the boat. No one wanted to pack or think about saying goodbye! We stayed up late, drinking French wine, coffee, and feasting on macaroons, cheeses and other delicious snacks we had purchased but didn’t want to pack into our suitcases. In the morning we were separated by color, put onto busses, and taken to the airport in Marseilles. I flew to Boston with Kim and Colton, and then home to NY with mom and dad. What an unforgettable trip. So many amazing memories and so many great new friendships. We will never forget! We are all Boston Strong!

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