Do They Celebrate Birthdays?

Today Chandler would have turned 27.

Do they celebrate birthdays in heaven?

It seems like birthday celebrations would be irrelevant in heaven. Time is a construct devised to help us negotiate life on a finite plane. Since heaven is eternal, celebrating a measure of time wouldn’t be a thing, right?

But maybe “relevant” also isn’t a thing in heaven. Maybe everything good, everything that brings us joy here, continues in heaven, but on steroids. Maybe the day that a precious soul touched down on this planet, began their journey of receiving and giving love to family and friends, made their impact -- no matter how many years, days....or hours -- is celebrated in heaven. Maybe the one we are missing here somehow knows how much we love and miss them....that we remember!

Maybe.

So maybe today, Chandler’s cousin Mason walked up to Chandler and gave him a huge birthday hug (the only kind of hugs Mason knew how to give).

Last Monday, June 22, Mason joined Chandler. He was 23. When the picture of Mason and Chandler playing checkers as kids flashed across the screen during Mason’s memorial service on Friday, I struggled to grasp this new reality – that Mason and Chandler, both too young not to be here – were now together in a new world that we can never imagine this side of it.

I didn’t know today would be this hard, this heavy. My analytical nature tries to quantify and explain it. It’s not the first birthday without Chandler, it’s the second. It’s not like Mother’s Day or Thanksgiving or Christmas where we have dinner and hang out for a long time together (or play games if I have my way). It’s his birthday. Once he was an adult, Chandler had so many friends that wanted to celebrate him, we had to get in line for our turn. This usually entailed a quick bite to eat with a shirtless Chandler before kissing him goodbye as he ran off to meet some friends. For those friendships, I am deeply grateful.

Out of nowhere, the wave crashed today. It hit me hard. I watched the slideshow from his memorial service – all the images of a dimpled young man loving life and living it large. His world was big. His heart was big. His skateboard and bike tricks were big. His grin was big. His friend group was big. His impact was big. He crammed a lot of big into 25 years.

I think I was blindsided by the pain today because of Mason. Last week I saw my niece, Mason’s mom, start down a road that she would have never imagined or chosen. Grieving is so very personal and yet elements of it are universal. I know her pain. My heart breaks for her. And for Mason’s granny, my sister. Her grandkids are her pride and joy. Mason’s cousins were more like brothers. And his little sister...just so much for her to carry. They are all walking down this new road, this detour, with an invisible weight on their shoulders.

And I know that my niece will never stop missing Mason. I can’t tell her that in a year or so, she won’t feel the pain. That she won’t wake up and remember how much every cell of her being longs to hug him or plant a kiss on his cheek. All I can say is, “It won’t feel exactly like this forever.” In the beginning, those words from another mom who had lost her daughter years before were a lifeline because my constant thought was, “If it feels like this forever, how will I survive it?” Hearing from someone who knew firsthand, even though I struggled to believe it at the time, was a comfort.

So back to my original query. Do they celebrate birthdays in heaven?

We will never know until we get there. What I do know is there are people right here, right now...today...who are grateful that their lives intersected with Chandler’s, no matter how much or how little time they knew him.

Happy birthday, Chandler. I wouldn’t trade those 25 years for anything. You are always, always, always in my heart.

Don’t know what it is ‘bout that Chandler Man’s lovin’, but I like it. I love it. I want some more of it.