Dear Ellison,

Your Great Aunt Joyce just needs to talk to you on this first Heavenly birthday. Been thinking a lot about you and your brief but fulfilling life. I remember the night you were born. We were getting ready for bed in a hotel in Atlanta after a long day of travel. A text popped in on Uncle Don’s phone from your daddy, with a picture of you and the note “10:10, 7 lbs. 14 oz., 20 inches. Name to follow.” We were so happy to know that you were finally here and that your dad and mom had shared this event with us. We didn’t know it then, but your birth year coincided with Uncle Don’s retirement year, which meant we could spend more time with you than we were able to spend with your three brothers at this age. There were ballgames, school pageants and birthday parties, as well as afternoons playing in the yard. You were never still, always looking for someone to talk to, something to do, questions to ask. You won my heart when you listened as we read books together, texted me with your mom’s phone and facetimed me last Christmas after getting your own I pad. In that call, you were so patient as you tried to teach me how to change my on-screen face to a cat’s face. Now that voice is silenced and the only place we can hear it is in our hearts and memory. Just like that on-screen switch from my face to a cat’s face, your face is gone from our vision but I know that if we could see you now, your face would be radiant and grands and great-grands would be listening to your sweet stories about all of the family members you left behind.