Today is the two-year anniversary of the Boston Marathon bombings, and it has been weighing heavily on my mind.
I have shared my thoughts about that terrible day twice before on this blog. On April 22, 2013, one week after the bombs went off, I shared my first-hand account of that day and the days that followed. A year later, I wrote about the regrowth that had taken place in the year since the bombs had gone off.
Another year has gone by, and this one brought us the trial and conviction of the cowardly terrorist whose actions brought about the deaths of four innocent people and the maiming of countless others. Personally, his conviction does little to lift my spirits, as it can in no way make up for the pain, fear, and damage he caused. But it does in its own way mean justice for the victims, and I sincerely hope it has brought them and their families some peace and comfort.
And so we continue to move on, to heal, and to remember. And yes, I will be bringing my infant son out to celebrate his first Patriots Day on Monday. It seems to me that the best way we can honor the memories of those that were lost is to continue to live our lives as joyfully as possible, without fear.