It has been seven years. Noah has now lived longer in our memories than in the flesh.
Seven years since a dark soul carried a semiautomatic rifle into Sandy Hook Elementary School in Newtown, Connecticut, and murdered everyone in his sights, including twenty first-graders and six educators.
Our grandson Noah had turned six three weeks before. We lived near Seattle at the time and I had flown cross-country just before Thanksgiving to be with him and his twin sister on their birthday. It would be the last time I would see him in person although one of my most precious memories is chatting with him on Skype a couple of nights before he and his classmates were mown down.
The red-eye flight back East on the evening of December 14 took place in an agony of disbelief. I can’t remember whether or not I managed to slumber but I do remember an enormous weight pressing down on my ribcage and a burning sensation in my chest.
When we got back home to the Northwest at the end of January, our house was exactly as we had left it mid-December: half-ready for Christmas. The stepladder was still up in the hall where hubby had been attaching red and white garlands; the tree had turned brown and brittle; ornaments had slid off the drooping branches and shattered on the floor; eleven little cardboard windows remained unopened on the advent calendar.
The holiday decorations were swiftly put away, not to be taken out for a few years. It would be an understatement to say that we were done with Christmas. We still are.
But our youngest grandkids eventually reached an age where they would notice and ask questions. We took the Christmas boxes out of storage again. And so it happens that every year when I open them, I find the stockings.
I don’t put them up anymore as I couldn’t bear taking out all of them but one.
And we no longer put up a big tree. Just a tiny symbolic one.
When I last saw Noah on Skype, he and his sisters were trimming their own tree back home. They were taking ornaments out of boxes, exclaiming over each one, running to the computer to show me, then running to the tree to hang them.
At one point, Noah found himself alone in front of the camera. I could hear his sisters chatting excitedly by the tree in the background. He sat uncharacteristically quiet, looking at me. I had zero premonition but I remember a stirring in my soul as if, in the silence, something had been said and acknowledged.
I used to love Christmas. Now it is a relief to put everything away again as soon as the holiday is over.
Gun violence isn’t a statistic. It isn’t abstract. It isn’t political.
Families hit by gun violence are force-shaped around a gigantic hole, an abyss of loss and longing. They don’t ever recover. Not really. We may still laugh, sing, revel and rejoice. But inside, we bleed.
After seven years, Noah hasn’t become an abstraction. I think about him every day of my life and I watch him grow. He was six when I last saw him. He’d be thirteen today.
Everywhere I go, I see the gleam of his pensive, luminous and mischievous eyes. There is nothing creepy about it, Noah isn’t a ghost, he is a presence. And a comforting one.
Even the grief is welcome. If it had started to assuage, then it would mean I would have started to forget. There is no chance of that.
My mom lost her first baby thirty-six hours after his birth. He had been a beautiful seven-pound little boy and just like that, he was gone. He had been born at home, as was then the custom in provincial France. The birth had been attended both by a midwife and by the local doctor. It had been uneventful and both the mom and the baby had been doing well. Nobody ever had any explanation for why he stopped breathing.
All her life my mom cried whenever she spoke of her lost little boy and in her final hour he was the only one whose name she still remembered. I know, I was there, and I am the one who uttered his name. She was a few months shy of her ninety-sixth birthday.
One doesn’t get over the death of a child. Or grandchild.
Is it worse when the child is murdered inside his classroom by a killer bent on inflicting maximum pain onto the largest possible number of families? I can’t say. I don’t believe a scale exists to measure the pain of losing a kid.
But I can tell you that had Noah died in his bed, the last seconds of his life wouldn’t have been filled with deafening noises, blood and terror. And I can also tell you that no parent or grandparent should have to live with that thought.
That is the reality of gun violence. Not an abstraction. Not a statistic. Sure there are numbers. But each and everyone of them represents a brutal ending, a gaping hole. Stunned and broken families stand around these holes in ever expanding circles of anguish and grief. The trauma never heals. It goes down the generations. A legacy of pain, anxiety and dysfunction.
Not a statistic. No.
What happened to Noah and nineteen other first graders in a peaceful little New England town ten days before Christmas seven years ago could happen to a kid you love.
To your kid. To your grandkid.
Today. Tomorrow. Anytime. Anywhere
I don’t know how to prevent it. But I know we can’t just sit tight and hold our breath. Or stick our heads in the sand.
On this seventh anniversary of the mass murder at Sandy Hook Elementary school and in memory of Noah, of his classmates and of his educators, I beg you to consider doing something if you do not do so already.
Joining Moms Demand Action would be good place to start.
And today would be a good time.
Thank you.
Thank you for this post.
I don’t know if it provides any comfort, but I wanted to tell you that every year, when December rolls around, I think of your family and the families of the other children lost on that brutal and tragic day. I really do feel a small bit of sadness for all of December thinking about you in the lead up to the anniversary and then after that in the days of Chanukah and Christmas. I don’t know why – in a world with so many sad stories – as I rejoice in holidays, your family is the one who comes to mind as a reminder that many around the world celebrate with a mixture of happiness and intense grief.
Of every little one taken on that day, Noah is the one whose face is seared most clearly in my mind. I know I will never ever EVER forget that day or his little face.
Thank you for writing so eloquently each and every year and for letting us into a tiny corner of your world. Please know that there are many of us out there who think about your families frequently and wonder about how you’re holding up, while knowing the answer is “probably not well” .
We’ll remember Noah forever.
Thank you, Elana. It means a lot to know that Noah and his little classmates are not forgotten.
Pray for your precious family always🙏
Thank you, Nancy!
I’m so sorry and I share your desire to reduce gun violence and to protect our children.
Frank
Thank you, Frank!
As a volunteer with Moms Demand Action, I’m speaking tonight at a vigil of remembrance, and for weeks, I’ve been writing and re-writing my remarks. My words sound so hollow and so scripted. I stumbled (without looking) onto your post, and realized that my words mean nothing, while yours mean everything. I hope it’s okay that I read aloud your entire post to our gathered group tonight? Thank you for sharing your experience. My hope is that your words will bring others in from the sidelines. I wish you gentle peace this season. Sending love from Scranton, PA.
Thank you, Katie, both for your compassion and for fighting gun violence. Of course it’s okay to read the post aloud. Thank you!
“…he is a presence.” May you always feel his presence and his comfort.
Thank you, Becky.
Wow! A powerful peace and I thank you for writing it. My heart goes out to you and your family. I’m so very sorry.
Thank you, Heidi!
Hello MC, Again I am so sorry for what your family and all the other families lost on that day! Sending you prayers and hugs …
Janet
Thank you for remembering, Janet.
Never forgotten. Love as always to you and your family.
Thank you for this piece. I remember your grandson and his classmates every day. I know the feeling of loss well, but cannot fathom what your family has been through these past seven years. And it infuriates me that even more families (before and after) have had to suffer as yours has because of our idiotic lack of gun control. I’m from Virginia. We haven’t forgotten our loss either.
I applaud you for keeping the spirit of the holiday alive for your other grandchildren. I understand the desire to let the kids have their magic and then put it away so you don’t have to look at it for another year. I know the pain will never stop, but I hope it lessens. You and your family are in my thoughts.
Thank you, Maura. Your compassion and support are a comfort. It breaks my heart though to know that so many new families should have been impacted since Sandy Hook. As if a mass murder in an elementary school wasn’t enough to move the collective heart of a nation.
Shame on those whose value the money of the gun lobby over the lives of our children.
I won’t ever forget when I heard of sandy hook. It was just as traumatic as hearing about 911. I won’t ever forget where I was. I was super pregnant with my 2nd child and our family was going out to eat breakfast. I couldn’t stop crying for weeks and something broke inside of me that still remains broken to this day. When I hear Sandy Hook I feel a physical pain and automatic tears, as I have now reading your story. I currently now have a 6yr old son. It’s a sweet and magical time where they’re so sweet, energetic and so wonderfully little and trusting. I’m sending you love and warmth and community. For I am a mother whose heart is broken along with yours and all the other families who have lost their little ones. Our country doesn’t have to live like this.
Thank you, Cassie. No, indeed, our country doesn’t have to live like this and one day, hopefully, it won’t. Wishing you and your family the best. I will keep you in my thoughts and heart.
This breaks my heart. I am a grandmother of a 5 year old. The thought of him going to school for the first time and having to experience active shooter drills is more than I want to think of. I cannot imagine the heartbreak of losing him to a crazed person with a gun. I’m ashamed nothing has been done to stop this insanity. My heart aches for all the families of victims. God bless you.
Thank you, Deborah! It is so much fun having a grandkid. The wonder never ceases. Sending hugs!
My son was in Kindergarten with Arielle. We miss Noah and think of him and the others lost every day. I don’t think I’ve been to a children’s event these last 7 years that I haven’t thought of who else should there and wondered which would be… who would be a wrestler, a singer, a baseball player now? Please know those of us in SH are always with you. God bless Noah and Arielle and your family. With love, 💚
Thank you for writing, Lisa, and thank you for remembering Noah and his little classmates that way. I love it that you are doing this.
Sending hugs!
I am so, so sorry – words are just not enough. Thank you for writing this. I will share it. And please know there are many of us with you in the fight against gun violence and lives like your precious Noah’s cut unimaginably short.
Thank you for your compassion and advocacy, Jeanine. They mean a lot to me. Sending hugs.
I want you to know that I think of you, the parents, siblings, and these precious children all the time. I am a retired schoolteacher and I can only imagine the terror of that day. I know that it must never leave you because this was your grandchild. Bless you for your beautiful tribute to your grandson. When Sandyhook didn’t change our laws, I wonder if anything ever will. I promise I will do whatever I can to support getting rid of these assault rifles. No child in any classroom should ever have to face this.
Thank you so much, Karen. It is thanks to determined souls like yours that things will change for the better one day.
Thank you for sharing this very honest, very painful account of your lives. I remember being at a Christmas Eve service that year and as we were singing and all seemed so glorious in the sanctuary with the pretty decorations and everyone dressed so festively and the beautiful music, I couldn’t stop the tears from trickling down my face. One of my children asked,”What’s wrong Mom?” I said I couldn’t stop thinking about all the Sandy Hook victims, especially those little children and how awful their parents must be feeling that Christmas.It didn’t seem fair that we were part of this joyful celebration when others were hurting so badly. What happened to your families affected many of us deeply and we haven’t forgotten about you and we never will. And we will keep working to try to prevent it from happening to others. May God bless all the Sandy Hook families with beautiful memories and strength to go on until they see their loved ones again.
Thank you for sharing our grief, Sue, and thank you for your advocacy.
Noah’s name echoed in the rotunda at the Montana State Capitol as Moms Demand Action offered a vigil yesterday. We offered other words, but it was the names of these beloved children, grandchildren, siblings, friends, and those who tried to save them, that mattered most. Thank you for your courage in sharing your heart in this post. I can only imagine your pain. Next year, when we say his name, I will say yours too, in my heart.
Thank you, Robin. It means a lot to me that Noah’s name should echo throughout the country especially if it moves more people to take action. It will take all of us to finally make a change.
I , too, am a grandmother and Moms Demand Action supporter. I think often of the sweet little souls lost at Sandy Hook, and as a retired teacher, I mourn the teachers also lost who were undoubtedly trying to protect their children. I cannot begin to know the crushing burden of your loss, but please know that millions of us mourn with you and are trying to create a world free of gun violence.
Thank you for your compassion and advocacy, Rebecca. Yes, I focus on the kids because I lost my grandson in the Sandy Hook shooting but the loss of the educators is just as tragic and I grieve for them and their families too. Sending hugs.
I never will forget Noah’s sweet, mischievous face.
Since that horrific day, I became a grandmother.
And what happened that day became my nightmare, too.
I never will forget Noah’s face.
Thank you. I wish you much joy and a lot of fun with your grandkid(s). Some people complain about aging but honestly if it means becoming a grandparent, then I am all for it!
I’m so sorry that Noah’s life was stolen from him and you and the rest of his family. , I’m sorry you are all forced to grieve him daily and that you have to live with his manner of death. I’m sorry.
My sister-in-law died from gun violence a few weeks after my husband and I got married. I have no recollection anymore of what my husband and I and his family were like before she died. It’s been 11 years and we experience life now through a layer of emotional scar tissue that gets thicker with time, but will never be the same as it was and will never ‘be okay’
Whether I’’m dropping my kids at school, we are at a movie, in the grocery store, at Target I always have a planned ‘escape’ if someone opens fire.
I think of Noah, his tiny friends and the heroic women who tried to protect them frequently. It’s always overwhelming.
I belong to Mom’s Demand Action but I need to get more active. My youngest is in first great rade now. They have mass shooting drills and he and his little friends think they are preparing In case a ‘wild dog’ gets into the school, because that is all their little brains can comprehend.
I will make 2020 a year of more substantive action and advocacy and hope!
Much love to you and yours.
Thank you for your compassion and advocacy, Erin. You are absolutely right that there is a before and an after for victim families. It is as if Time stopped and when it resumed flowing everything had changed. Like you wherever we are I think about what could happen.
It is profoundly sad that younger kids should be submitted to active shooter drills. I am glad your child believes it is in case a wild dog enters the school.
Sending hugs.
I wanted to let you know that every year in December I remember that day in the minutest detail. My daughter was a kindergartner that year in Westchester. We made gingerbread ornaments at school and I heard the news on my way to work. I cried and still do anytime I think of these children. I am from Pakistan and a few years later on 16th December another violent attack on school children in Pakistan doubles up the pain. I hope one day we will not have to sit in silence, mourning our children for all of these are ours. The future of the world. May all of you find peace in your heart.
Thank you, Munazza.
Noah and his classmates were supposed to be building gingerbread houses in the afternoon of the day they were murdered…
I remember the mass murder at the school in Pakistan. It was horrific and broke my heart anew. As long as I live I will never understand how someone can turn a weapon against a kid, let alone a whole classroom.
All children are ours wherever they live, you are absolutely right, and never was it made as clear as when this tragedy happened in your country.
I’m so sorry for you loss and I’m holding you in my heart from many miles away. I’m also volunteering with Moms Demand Action to try to address gun violence. I wish you peace and love.
Thank you for your compassion and advocacy, Carolyn.
Noah’s mom Veronique and I went to nursing school together at the College of new rochelle and to each other’s weddings.She was such a beautiful young woman, sophisticated spoke 3 languages funny and great student ! She went into oncology nursing . SHe Could not wait to be a mother aside from being a nurse.it broke my heart when I found out what happened. I think about her very often.Please pray for Veronique , her family and Noah in heaven 🙏❤️
Bridget, thank you for writing this. I remember you and your friendship with my daughter. She always spoke of you with joy in her heart and everything you say is so true. I hope you and your family are well.
I think of these children every year as well. Noah in particular stayed on my mind because I, too, have a child named Noah who is a twin. At the time, my twins were only a year old and now they are 3rd graders. I thought of your Noah as I sent mine off to school for the first time. He has touched the lives of people he never met.
I will keep your Noah in my heart. It is a comfort to know that he exists. Thank you for writing!
Thinking of you today and everyday from MA. I’ll never ever forget your sweet Noah. A little boy I never met, but has a place in my heart forever. Wishing you peace.
Thank you, Kati.
Outstanding and poignant. I cannot imagine your anguish from that day 7 years ago, I only know that as a mother and grandmother myself, I could barely breathe upon hearing the news. It was a long time before I felt normal again. But Sandy Hook robbed us off of our sense of security and safety, for ourselves, our children, and our grandchildren. It robbed a nation of innocence and replaced it with almost daily news of mass murders, or plans for mass murder.
Noah will never be forgotten. Certainly not in my lifetime. And neither will his classmates who met the same fate that brutal day 7 years ago.
But I leave you with this … I do not believe Noah would want his loss of life to snuff out your light and joy. I think he would want you to put up the big tree, and decorate it gloriously in his memory, and tell him it is for him. I think he’d want you to hang his stocking every year, and maybe have every family member write him a note or letter and put it in his stocking. Maybe keep each year’s Christmas letters to Noah and put them in a file for each year they are written by family and friends.
I believe he hears you and feels your love. He will always be a part of your family, and a significant piece of your heart. He has a Nation’s heart too. He certainly has mine.
God cradle you and comfort you during Christmas. May the Lord Bear your burdens and carry the broken pieces of your life. May He give you reminders that Noah is safe and happy I’m His Heavenly Father’s loving arms.
Be good to yourself.
Susan
Thank you for your love and compassion, Susan. Everyone handles trauma differently. Sadly for me, Xmas has become a trigger. But I am working on it!
Our Moms Demand Action group held a Vigil to #EndGunViolence today in Massachusetts, to commemorate the 7th anniversary of Sandy Hook and remember all gun violence victims. I read your heart-breaking account about Noah and your tragedy to the audience. Tears were shed. Our hearts and thoughts are with you and your family, as they are with all Sandy Hook victims of that horrific day. My heart bleeds because this is what we have come to. I will continue to take action, until such a day may arrive that these kinds of horrors no longer violate our lives.
Thank you for doing what’s needed, Kathleen. It is a comfort to know that the horror at Sandy Hook has sparked a movement like Moms Demand Action, raising awareness throughout the country and fighting the gun lobby everywhere. One day common sense and compassion will prevail, I know it.
I remember these precious children throughout the year, but especially during the holidays. No family should have to have an empty chair during their family gatherings, or daily meals.
As a 2nd grade teacher, I mourn for the futures that were taken away that day, all because of a senseless act that could have been prevented. I’m mortified by the comments of those proclaiming guns are the answer or a right…”put a gun in the classroom”, “it’s my constitutional right”, “It’s just a hobby/collection I have”, “it’s not a gun problem, it’s a mental health problem”, “it’s video games and music that put these ideas in their heads” . You know what i say to all of that? I say, “Bullsh**” (I’m sorry for the profanity, but I will not sugarcoat something as serious as this). Other civilized countries have strict gun laws, AND mental health problems, video games, music, etc., and still do not have mass murders! As for putting a gun in my classroom? First, what if, (just what if), a child were to somehow get his/her hands on that gun? Or second, if (God help us), there were to be a shooting at my school…how would first responders know who was/wasn’t the actual perpetrator? I guarantee you they are going to shoot first, and ask questions later! I know I would. And last, by the time first responders arrive, it’s usually over…we are speaking a few minutes. It’s your hobby? Get a new hobby!
I am fed up with this president, this Republican party, and the lost common sense that seems to prevail in this country. You’re right, the fact that a great country like America needs an organization called Mom’s Demand Action is pitiful! Stubbornness and Ignorance…plain and simple!
Please accept my deepest sympathy. I am so sorry your family lives with this pain. I sincerely do offer you my thoughts and prayers, but unlike some people of our society, it’s not the only thing I offer. I write my letters and emails demanding for strict gun laws. I promise you, I will continue to do my part, so no other family needs to have that empty chair.
Thank you for your post.
Thank you, Lisa. I am so with you in everything you wrote. It defies belief that not everyone is.
I sat in my office – I worked then in a college in New England as an academic advisor to prospective teachers – and I wept. My own child is the exact same age. Later, I worked again as an 8th grade teacher and wept whenever we had active shooter training. I fielded questions from students whenever there was a shooting – far too many days. And there was the day this past fall, when my 13 year old daughter told me she needed more supplies for the emergency 1st aid kit she keeps in her backpack, because she did the math and realized she didn’t have enough in the event of a school shooting…that was the day my faith in our society finally died. So I guess I have no words of comfort execpt this: please know that I did-continue to- lobby for an end to this madness. And I will do so forever. My heart is with you.
Thank you, Stacy. It is horrific that schoolchildren should have to worry about being killed at school. Sending hugs to you and your daughter.
I was sitting at my desk at work in Newtown on that tragic December morning in 2012. My coworkers and I heard the helicopters overhead that were on their way to the school. There was confusion as information began to trickle into the office. My children attended Sandy Hook School years before when they were little. Our family members all felt connected by our history.
It is not only in December each year that I think of your baby boy and the other precious children and their brave teachers. I can find myself wiping tears from my eyes on random occasions like driving in my car. I now have four grandchildren of my own. I am worried for them….how are we to keep them safe in this current world of violence? When I think of how the Sandy Hook families are able to cope with this horrible event in their lives I am in awe of their strength. May you and yours take comfort that your baby boy is now cradled in the arms of God. To our public officials…I am begging you to do something…before it is your precious family member over whom you grieve.
Thank you, Eileen. I was across the country when my daughter called. I saw these same helicopters on a live feed on the web as we were waiting for the kids to be evacuated. I kept looking for the faces of my three grandkids as they filed out, didn’t recognize any of them. In the end, the girls made it safely out and Noah didn’t. December has truly become the darkest month.
I thank you for remembering. It means a lot to all of us that our loss and grief should be remembered and shared. Wishing you much joy with your grandchildren. Mine are truly the joy of my life.
Thank you for this post and your memories of your grandson.
I remember that day so well. It was my daughter’s first Christmas that year and we had gotten our tree the day before. I was spending the day decorating. As a first time mom I was so shook by the events of that day.. I along with several other bloggers vowed to focus on and remember the victims and not the perpetrator and we each choice one child who’s name we would always carry with us. I chose Noah.
When we had gotten our tree we had also picked up an Elf on the Shelf and I had yet to name it, so his name became “Noah.” So every year when we get out our decorations I am reminded of that little life that was cut short. Last year when my daughter was 6, she asked for the first time about how our elf got his name, and I was able to tell her about another six year old who was special and very loved and missed by his family.
Every year I think about you, your daughter, and all the other families who lost their precious children that day. My daughter was in first grade too. She is now 13. It used to be every single night, now especially around December, when I go kiss her in her sleep I send a thought of love towards your daughter and the other moms who did not see their first grader become an eight grader. And it still makes me cry. Thank you for offering us ideas of things to do. I will go see that group. Et je ne l’oublie pas.
Merci, Cécile. It means a lot to me to read that you remember them. Yes, they and we were robbed of their futures and that only compound the loss and grief. I’ll be grateful for anything you might be able to do to help prevent future tragedies.
I think of the children and families often. More so in December. Each year on the 12th I look at the photos of each sweet face. This year I shared the photos with my 8 year old twins and explained what happened. I specifically stopped at Noah and told them he was a twin. Please know Noah will never, ever be forgotten. None of the precious lives will.
Thank you, Amy. What an awful thing that kids should have to grow up with the knowledge that someone might wish grievous harm onto them. I am grateful to you for remembering each and everyone of the children of Sandy Hook and their educators. Sending hugs.
The 14th (not 12th) and yes, I agree: It’s a terrible premise that kids need to grow up with 😔
I was at a training session yesterday – the 14th – for Moms Demand Action and our leaders read out those 26 names, followed by a long minute of silence. Their voices shook and there were many tearful eyes and sniffles.
We will never forget your Noah and the others.
Thank you for sharing.
Thank you for your compassion and for your advocacy, Lilly.
Thank you for this beautifully worded reminder of the horror that occurred that day. Noah sounds like a lovely child. I have been a public school teacher for 38 years, and I remember that day too well. I also live in New England in a picture-perfect small town by the sea. That day a student told me what he had just read online about the murders in Sandy Hook, and at first I didn’t believe him – it all sounded too incredible. But sadly I saw later that the student had reported the news correctly. I too think about Noah and his classmates and teachers every year at this time. When I started teaching in the dark ages of the early 1980’s these kinds of events never entered my mind. Now, unfortunately, we are always thinking of how to be ready for the possibility of another school shooting. I’ll be retiring in a few years, and sadly, I don’t feel we’ve made any progress towards doing what is right for our children and the safety they deserve.
I’m so sorry for the loss of your dear grandchild and the pain that your family will always feel. There’s nothing normal about children being killed so violently in a place where they and their parents should only expect warmth and security. There is something dreadfully wrong with the conscience of our country at this time, and I feel so helpless to change it.
There is indeed. But we are not helpless. I do believe Moms Demand Action is making a big difference. Elections matter. Hopefully 2020 will confirm the trend. Thank you for remembering the lives lost in Sandy Hook.
Thank you for sharing this year’s tribute to your grandson Noah. It was so loving and honest and I was glad to read that others had chosen to read it at various events being held in the country to honor those lost that day. I can’t truly imagine your loss though I’m a grandmother of an eight and ten year old girl and hate that any child has to have these safety drills in school or worry about shootings happening in a school. My love to you and your family at this difficult time.
You wrote a beautiful piece and I want you to know we remember. We remember Newtown and so many others killed and injured before Newtown and since then. My sincerest sympathies on a loss that is beyond understanding.
Just know there are many of us out here that are concerned and sympathetic for you and your family… and all the families of Sandy Hook. If only we knew what to do to irradiate gun violence! We would do anything!! Bless you! Ed and Jeanne
I live here in CT and yesterday, I did not feel quite right. An enormous sense of sadness hovered over me the entire day. I have three granddaughters. The first was born a few years before Sandy Hook and the other two a few years after. I could not image my life without them and want to tell you I am so sorry for what happened to Noah and to you and your family. Your loss, I am sure is immeasurable. I hope his sweet memory can bring you some sense of peace in this holiday season and throughout the year.