Why Remembering Isn't As Hard Today

Today is the second anniversary of John's death, and while I am fully aware of this day and think of him, I do not feel the sadness and grief as I did on the 16th. It was this way as well last year. I cannot completely explain it. It is as if the day of his death was a great letting go. That it still is. A day to exhale, chest concave and loose.
When he was born, there was a road that must be taken. A path to walk filled with hope, chance, pain, worry, love, joy, and faith.
On the day he died, he went alone. Straight into the arms of Jesus, and I believe, reunited with his twin sister that was lost so early on. I could not make that journey with him. It was for him alone to take. I released a precious gift, so quickly gotten, knowing I would someday take the same journey. The one of gasping for the last breath, of feeling beating stopping, and a new path spreading out brilliantly before me. 

Today though, I rest, knowing that he is safe. Free from harm and sin. That he is waiting, worshiping the King, and happier than all of us have ever known.
There is great freedom in that rest.
And because of that, great comfort in today.