Praying For the Heros in Boston

This situation here is... there is no other word but UNBELIEVABLE.  The area is in lock down.  The governor gave this order to Boston and surrounding towns...

STAY INDOORS.

DO NOT OPEN YOUR DOORS TO ANYONE EXCEPT UNIFORMED PERSONNEL WITH CITY IDENTIFICATION CARDS.

Our family is not in one of these towns, but have loved ones there.  We were lying in bed awake this morning and all we heard were sirens. Hours and hours of sirens. (It's unsettling to say the least.) Thousands of law enforcement officers are racing in to go door to door looking for this monster.

The public transportation system is shut down, no taxi service, no fly zone, state police are everywhere. 

My thoughts and prayers are with the family of the MIT security officer that was killed last night, and the officer that is in critical condition. 

Aunt Fran may you rest in peace.

When Aunt Fran entered the room everyone knew it! She had an infectious laugh that at times made me wonder why I was laughing along with her. But I couldn't help but laugh with my Aunt Fran.

In my world Aunt Fran enjoyed sharing her secrets and was good at keeping mine. She was brave, always spoke her mind, yet had a soft heart. She gave the best hugs, made the best cookies, and always had a candy dish filled with mints by the door. She even had a few tricks up her sleeve (along with her handkerchief which if I remember correctly, wasn't exactly up her sleeve)! In fact, for years she had me convinced that she could actually pop her teeth out with her tongue and put them back in! Ha! Aunt Fran always had a story to tell. (At times it would be a story that I heard many times, but that didn't matter.)

I thought it was the greatest that my Aunt Fran owned a country store. I adored spending time with her there. It was a safe place to study people from afar and feel warm when I really needed a safe place to feel warm.

One Christmas, Aunt Fran suggested that I go Christmas shopping there. Wow! I felt so proud to have bought my family gifts. Funny thing is...I only remember one of the presents. I picked a back scratcher for my Uncle Cliff. Aunt Fran lovingly devoted that afternoon teaching me how to properly wrap each of the gifts. I wasn't the best student, but she didn't seem to mind.

My Aunt Fran could juggle mixing spoons, crack eggs and yell at the dog all at the same time! As a young girl, I marveled at how her hands didn't hurt when she touched something hot, and how she swiftly traveled on her crutch after Shadow (the dog) when he misbehaved. I didn't want to be on the receiving end of that crutch. I never was, however, she knew how to keep me in line. Her facial expressions and tone of voice were a clear indication that she somehow knew when I snuck a snack, or slipped out of church early. (How did she do that?) If she called me, "Kelly-Ann," I knew I was in for it. But she wouldn’t be cross for long, and I always knew that she loved me, and I loved her too.

I cherish the days that we shared. Just thinking about her gigantic hugs and her cunning smile as she recited (yet again) the famous story of how she wouldn't let me turn three unless I stopped wearing diapers makes my heart ache a little. But I am truly grateful to have spent these moments with my Aunt Fran. And each time that I wrap a present or eat a mint, or even slip out of church early, I will think of her and hope that she is still laughing and telling her stories.