Boston, we are here...

When a horror like Newtown, CT or the Boston marathon bombing of today or the Colorado movie theater shooting happens, I feel compelled to watch the news coverage. I can't, almost won't turn it off (when my children aren't around, One Philly Kids are 1 and 3. They have enough life ahead of them to confront these heady issues.)

Given my overall life philosophy and goal is to avoid negative, painful, violent, angry and evil thoughts, feelings, events, images and information, I've often wondered why that is. I barely watch the daily news because its too depressing, but this, this I feel compelled to watch.

Why do I not turn it off?

I don't feel the icky rubber-necking feeling from gawking at accidents and other people's pain.

I don't feel a rush of anger, or desire for vigilante justice.

I do occasionally find myself overwhelmed with disbelief, sorrow, and tears, but I do not feel an overwhelming disappointment in humanity. I, as many are, am struck by the bravery and courage of those rushing forward to help, to protect, to comfort, to serve.

Unfortunately I've had plenty of opportunity to reflect on this is recent history.

In a twist of fate, I found myself in PA, glued to a television, in horror, during the Colombine shootings, when a loved one lived in Colorado, minutes from the high school. A few years later, I lived in Colorado, and awoke to the horror playing out in New York on 9/11, hours from those I loved, and thousands of miles from the horror. In both cases, I felt bizarrely displaced, not where I should've been, not where I'd been all along. And all I could do was watch.

So why don't I turn it off?

Quite simply, because 113 families will never be able to turn off this horror show. As of this writing 3 families will be forced to remember this as the anniversary of the day they lost their loved one. Countless first responders will wait days, weeks, months before they are able to tend to themselves, as they put the safety and survival of others first. Every person who lives and works in Boston will be dealing with this reality, for days, weeks, months, years to come.

I can not save a life. I can not comfort a victim. I can not find those responsible. I can not provide relief for those who can not escape this reality.

The only thing I can do, right now, this minute, is not turn a blind eye.

All I can do is not avert my eyes, cloaking myself in the dark comfort that at least this isn't my reality, not today.

I watch, not to give undeserved glory to those causing the pain, I watch to say to those affected : you are not alone.

I can not fathom your pain; I do not presume to know an ounce of the burden you now carry.

But you are not alone.

I offer my strength, love and peace, by not pretending this isn't happening.

I offer my condolences by refusing to look away.

I acknowledge your new reality by not ignoring it.

I offer my fervent hope that you will find what you need to carry you through this unspeakable experience by watching, paying my respects by being here in the only way I can.

My thoughts, and prayers are with you, I wish you peace, strength, love, and all that you need.

You can't turn it off, so for now, neither will I.

I'm still here, I'm still watching.