Dear London,

I love you. I've loved you since I first visited as a wide-eyed sixteen-year-old. You welcomed me with open arms when I lived in your lovely southwestern neighborhoods as a sophomore in college. I have come back several times since to see how you were doing, and always, you were doing wonderfully. So smart, so alive.

Yesterday, in my joy at your latest accomplishment, I emailed my husband the following message, entitled, "Let's Go to the Olympics":

London got the bid! We’ve got seven years to get the kids groomed for an international trip. Oh yeah, and to save about five thousand dollars… I think we can do it!!!

So, today, I'd like to tell you that I am sorry. So sorry that you have been hurt. The thriving center of a country that has for so long sustained me when I needed time away from my own has been injured, and I am hurting with you.

I like to think that I speak for all Americans when I say that we share your grief, England, and we stand with you. You stood with us when we lost so many in 2001; you are standing with us in wartime, sacrificing your young. We understand much of your pain and we send our prayers in your support.

See you soon.
love,
Mary Louisa