Flags at half staff


Every time I see the flags at half staff my heart aches for the loss it represents. This week has been tough week. My eyes are drawn to the flags. I can count them on my way to and from work. I don’t try to divert eyes even though I know when the flag is coming up. I choose to allow myself to feel the pain and mourn with my fellow mourners.
There is not a life that was lost this week in Boston or West that didn’t touch someone else. They each had a mother and father. Maybe they were a friend,  brother, sister, cousin, aunt, uncle, mom, dad or grandparent.
My heart and prayers go out to each of them.

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