As Noah’s angel-versary approached, I had no idea how I would handle the weight of that day. My heart, and mind, told me there was no way I could possibly do life that day. As the day approached, my anxiety got worse and worse. My heart felt like it was being ripped from my chest. My breathing abnormal. My mind was tortured and it felt like I was going mad. How could Noah possibly have been gone for 365 days? Why hasn't this nightmare ended yet?
In my mind there were two ways we could have handled the 18th of March. The first option was what most people expected. We could lay in bed, cry, and wish we had Noah in our arms again. The second option required divine strength. We could celebrate our sweet Noah and the fact that God gave us three and a half years with our beautiful son. We chose the second.
It came. March 18th. The worst day of my life. Every inch of my body screamed out to God in agony, and yet, by God's grace, my feet hit the ground that morning. We headed to the place that Noah spent his last earthly day before he entered into glory - Disney's Magic Kingdom in Orlando, Florida.
We honoured Noah that day in every way we knew how. Every single thing was about him. We ate ice cream, cheeseburgers, and lots and lots of candy. We rode Peter Pan, Winnie the Pooh, the Carousel, Teacups, and Dumbo over and over again until the sting turned to pure joy. We walked by physical places we had stood with Noah just a year before. We cried and we talked about every wonderful memory we had with him. We had a CELEBRATION of Noah. We celebrated the fact that we knew love, laughter, and life with him. We especially celebrated the fact, that through Jesus, we know we will see him again - and spend eternity with him!
