I love that Alyssa can tell complete strangers that today is her brother’s birthday. Like the lady at Garden Ridge as we were buying new flowers for the cemetery. I love that she is so open about it and there is nothing strange about her brother living in heaven. I love that she completely believes that when the balloons disappear in the sky, that means that Noah grabbed them. I love that I can celebrate and remember Noah anyway I want and Alyssa is on board. Want to send him balloons? YEAH! Want to have cupcakes like he is having in heaven? YEAH! Oh! To have the faith of a child.

So here I am toward the end of this day. I have reflected on the idea that I want to celebrate his birthday and not the day he died. For people that die at an older age, you usually remember their loved ones on the day they died. But for me, Noah’s birthday holds more meaning. I haven’t figured out why – only that is the day we met. The day he first came to our family. The day many of you heard about him. The day that changed my life. Last year on the 1st anniversary, I didn’t know what to do. Do we have a cake? A family party? Do we invite others to let balloons go? I chose to do nothing. But this year I was ready. I don’t want to make myself feel that if I do something one year, then I must continue that ritual for the rest of my life. This year we made cupcakes to remember him and next year we may not. It is hard to let yourself do what you want to. Not to think “what does it mean if I do this?” or “Do I still have to celebrate this way when Noah would have been 30-something?” We just do what we want, and what works each year. But let me tell you that singing the boring, traditional Happy Birthday song today really touched me. With us gathered around the kitchen table, candles lit, singing like we have for everyone else in the family (except Megan). It was surreal that Noah never had that. Never experienced a birthday and we never celebrated with him. But one day we will celebrate!
What really helps on this day is that many of you remember him too. I have never shyed away from talking about him. I like for people to bring him up, just to say his name. It confirms that he was here, that I have a son, that my heart has a hole in it for a real reason. Thank you for remembering Noah. Thank you for remembering our pain.

Happy Birthday Noah.

From Noah’s Papa:

Noah would’ve been 2, today

Ah, birth dates. Who doesn’t look forward to a birthday? That’s a very loaded question.

Take my dad for instance; he’d be 100 years old in September. But I really never expected him to live that long, so his passing in the prime of his 80s wasn’t too surprising.

Take Noah for instance; he’d be 2, today. I really expected him to be at your house. That’s the trouble with expectations; when they go unrealized, it puts a major dent in our lives. I’m not sure how the belief that children should always be okay took root in my brain, but when it doesn’t happen . . . major challenge.

Just read again, for maybe the 100th time, cause it takes me a long time to grasp, the verses in Colossians 3 about “Set your minds on things above, not on earthly thing” and “Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts” . . . And be thankful and whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.  Man, how hard is it to not think about earthly things when we’re planning to load up this afternoon to go visit Noah’s grave? And where does giving thanks enter into that event? I give; it’s there. It just takes a little Spirit guidance to see it. It’s been two years, and the fog is just beginning to clear. It’s handy God is so patient.

How thankful can I be? Let me list a few. You and Ethan survive (yes, that’s day to day, not past tense). The gift of life is way beyond something to be taken for granted (not only physical, but eternal, as well). There is a massive reunion planned for the redeemed (maybe a party along the way). God, family, friends, and even strangers do come to our rescue in our darkest hours. Hugs are okay (not too often), but good when they happen. Pain and suffering do lead to a better understanding of God’s constant care (though I’m pressed to recommend it). Our family finds this time to rally together in a balloon festival. This too will pass with the aid of the Comforter. How cold life would be without Jesus. That Noah never had to have IED in his vocabulary; only the words I love you and we’re praying for you. That really awful, life-changing events work together for good for those who depend on God to see them through. Questions like “how could this happen” do begin to melt away in the well-wishes of others as they allow themselves to be the hands of Christ in this life. There is so much comfort in knowing where Noah is, even though it was a bit early to go home. Being willing and able to tell the cousins that Noah is with Jesus brings them closure with his passing from this life to his next one; they can and do look forward to being with him, again. He was such a pretty baby; no, he still is in my mind. Happy birthday, Noah.

I’ll stop. Since I don’t use this venue, I’ve over stayed my time. Lest you think I’ve finally gotten it together as a grandfather who misses his grandson, let me say that during this brief writing experience, I’ve had to stop, wipe the tears, cuss, regroup, and continue on. God is probably asking “how could this happen?”

The Abilene Ellers celebrate