Noah’s Story

What makes a man? Many would say it’s about being the biggest or strongest in the room. Others would claim its your ability to sacrifice what you want for the benefit of others. I though? I would say it has a lot to do with being courageous. Now let us define courage. I have always loved the way Mufasa described a synonym of courage, bravery. “I’m only brave when I have to be. Simba... Being brave doesn't mean you go looking for trouble.” In the same sense courage is not the lack of fear, it is the ability to stand tall in the face of the very fear that grips you. If you were told you had less than a year left to walk this earth, how would you react? How would you change? Would you continue the same life? Who would you tell first? Would you hold it with you to your deathbed? Would you go party every night, do things you have always wanted but never attempted with this newfound sense of hurry? Yes indeed, it is chilling. Knowing each passing day you grow closer to no longer being of this Earth. Many have had to answer these very questions, my brother Noah Felix Pena, one among them.

In 2019, many important events happened. Worldwide, across continents, regions, and locally, something significant occurred for our family. My dad got a call in late October that his oldest son was in the hospital, critically ill. Dad quickly flew to South Carolina with his best friend Rick to see his son. Thankfully, Noah survived, but he was diagnosed with advanced liver disease and given about a year to live. Noah decided to leave his brother in South Carolina and stay with us to spend time with family in Texas before he passed away. When we picked him up in Baytown, we were shocked to see him surrounded by alcohol and drinkers. Despite his condition, he was determined not to give up. On the way home, Noah expressed his fear and sorrow, feeling weak for showing his emotions. I reassured him that he was one of the bravest men I knew. Arriving home, I spent time with my older brother. Reflecting back, I now regret not making more of an effort to spend additional quality time with him. Only after his passing did I fully grasp the extent of his loneliness and the severity of his illness, both of which he faced courageously on a daily basis. Despite the immense challenges he encountered, he managed to maintain a façade of strength, never allowing his vulnerabilities to surface. Witnessing how difficult it was for him to seek assistance even with basic tasks stay etched in my memory. Noah, a man who recently wed a woman from his past, soon finds himself in distress. Just two months after the marriage, he reaches out for assistance, his wife had kicked him out due to his deteriorating health. Plagued by symptoms such as weight loss, stomach pain, jaundice, and even vomiting blood. Each passing day sees him growing weaker, with his condition worsening to the point where he loses his ability to speak. During his last few weeks, our father stays by his side, watching helplessly as Noah's health deteriorates, creating a heart-wrenching and difficult ordeal for all involved. The last memory I have of my brother Noah was during the week leading up to Thanksgiving. One morning, I found him unresponsive on the floor, prompting us to carefully move him back to bed with the help of his caregiver. Due to COVID-19 visitor restrictions in 2020, only my parents could be with him, so they made multiple visits that week. I will always cherish the bittersweet moment when I last saw Noah. It was a difficult time, but I found out about his passing while at work in Walmart, hearing the news from my dad's solemn voice over the phone .I vividly remember the anguish in my dad's voice. It marked a significant moment of loss for me. Coping with such emotions can be overwhelming. Who can I turn to when even the smallest work-related apology triggers such profound sorrow? Thoughts of regret consume me. Discovering that he passed away in the place of my birth was devastating. My father once relayed Christopher's words about me embodying the older brother figure that Noah said he should have been for me. Though it is challenging to discuss, I have sought solace in my faith lately.

If you ask me how I deal with loss, I wouldn't know what to say honestly. It's something you never fully recover from. You think about them every day, and any little thing that reminds you of them can make you cry. I remember how much he loved The Mandalorian show. He would have been thrilled to see the season 2 finale. I watched each episode on the first night in his memory and wept because he would never receive the beautiful conclusion to this series. You never really move on. When times get tough, I pray for the strength my brother Noah had to endure hardships. He taught me how to be truly courageous, even when afraid of death. He didn't show his fear so we wouldn't worry. Family was everything to him. He'll always be a part of me, living on through us. His courage and determination are lessons that will stay with me forever. I will make sure my children know about their uncle and how amazing he was. Noah's legacy will endure through the stories we share.

Rest in Peace, Noah.

Your little brother,

Jacob.