Today, a couple of hours ago, two bombs went off at the Boston Marathon finish line. Later, according to officials, a third explosion happened at the Kennedy Library (about 5 miles away). News reports say some of the spectators at the marathon died, others lost limbs and children suffered burns.

It’s too soon to know more details. News keeps coming in from the media, some of it confirmed some of it not.

At this point no one is saying it was a terrorist attack, but I’m thinking it was.

Those of us with terminal diseases sometimes get wrapped up in the dangers of living with, and possibly dying from, leukemia. But events like today’s shake us out of our own self indulgence and wake us up to the reality that no one knows how his own demise will occur.

One of my blogs some time back talked about a theater shooting and how a man, enjoying the movie, died just because he was in the wrong seat where a stray bullet found him. This race was no different, except on a larger scale.

People were celebrating this iconic event – the Boston Marathon. Spectators at the marathon’s 117th anniversary run were cheering the runners on. Families were shouting out encouragement to their brother, or sister, or mother, or father – encouraging them to finish the race. The crowd’s excitement was palpable. But in an instant the elation turned to panic, injury, and death.

Leuk and I are listening to the news knowing that perfectly healthy people are dead or injured. Yet here I am under a warm sun and blue sky. My heart is beating. I’m breathing in fresh air.

Death, it seems, is fickle. He’s not concerned with our health. He’s not on a schedule. He seldom does the expected.

I think, at least for today, I’m going to forget my leukemia. Leuk may invade my thoughts tomorrow, but today, in the shadow of Death’s visit to Boston, I’m going to celebrate life.

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