today is bouv's birthday. it's also "september eleventh" and this is a repost from my first marathon.
i personally am having a sad day today. i've been thinking about bouv for a lot of the day. i'm tired and emotional (i'm traveling for work). it's "that day" which is always weird and terrible. and i'm feeling sorry for myself because there's no running for me right now. the word is official - i have two stress fractures and will not be able to run the marathon. i don't want to dwell on this right now but i do want to let you, my people know "officially" what is up and why there have been no posts of late.
so where i usually am able to muster a cheerful face and find some bright sides, i'm feeling sad and blue. so i decided to go back to that first bouv birthday run and read what i wrote. i did and it made me feel better. it's got the strength i wish i had today but don't and so i thought why not post it again - because it all rings true.
september 6th, 2006
september 11th is a day that it seared into the memories of americans and world. it was, as the newspapers are saying, new york's darkest day. on september 11th, 2001 i had been living in new york for a little over a year, working on the west side in chelsea at my first advertising agency. i have many surreal memories of that day and the days and weeks following, and truth be told, in years past, just the mention of the date makes me cringe. but this year, while i will not (nor do i want to) forget the tragedy that took place 5 years ago today, i choose to celebrate a more joyful event that took place 30 years ago today.
on september 11, 1976, steven bouvier was born. what i'm sure was an adorable bundle grew up to be a man, a husband, a chemist, a skiier, a scholar, an uncle, a son-in-law, a brother-in-law, a friend, and a vermont-enthusiast. he was, by birth, a son, a little brother, a nephew, a cousin, a "bouv" and a red sox fan, and i know that he excelled in all categories. he grew an infectious smile, a certain swagger in his lanky walk, a great sense of humor, long hair, and the accent we all know and love.
when i was running today, at first it was really hard to tune out the dark implications of the day. there were cops not just on the big bridges, but the little footbridges that cross the FDR. the southbound side of the FDR was blocked off, and the constant buzz of the news and police helicopters were nearly impossible to ignore. but after i got my rhythm, i was able to tune them out and think about steve.
a few weeks ago, i was watching a very very cheesy girlie movie with my sister. ( if, by the way,after i describe this you know what movie i'm talking about, you lose all rights to mock me for watching it.) in this movie, one of the characters, a 12-year-old girl, has leukemia. her friend asks her if she is afraid, and she says not of death, but of time. she was afraid that she wouldn't figure out who she was, wouldn't have time to make her mark on the world.
bouv knew who he was, and there is no question that he made a mark on the world, especially if that mark is measured in the number of people you touched and that love you.
happy birthday bouv.