Judah was born on January 8, 2000 in Charlotte, NC. We were stunned that they let us - completely incompetent, very young adults - leave the hospital without any instructions. But he was an easy, happy baby and our desperation to not break him kept us in books and around experienced folks to show us the way. He was everyone's baby at our church in Charlotte - adored, held, spoiled, and loved by a whole community.

As a toddler he was contented, imaginative, and could get deeply focused on play in his room or outside for long stretches of time. As a bigger kid he was adventurous and competitive. He loved to read, but loved beating his friends in how many books he'd read even more. He played flag football and soccer as though his life depended on it. Badminton this past Easter was a battle Royale. And he beat the rest of us at family Olympic races down the street.

With his vibrant energy and joy, I called him the inventor of fun. Friends and cousins could always count on Judah to think up a new challenge, scheme or adventure - climbing to the top of the elementary school down the street at night with his brothers and eluding the cops that spotted them, exploring creeks, traversing Webb Park at night. He would gather tons of Christmas trees from out by the curb to build forts or to jump onto from the roof. He'd camp out in the backyard. He'd ride his bike clear across town.

Judah was smart and insightful. He gave his best to the teachers who cared and stretched him, but looked down on the ones that just took up space. We loved discussing books we had both read and we enjoyed sharing new titles with each other. He took care of his school work without us having to nag. He was a really good writer. Some of his papers brought me to tears.

Judah was a loyal friend - sticking with the same buds for years, helping them in tangible ways, and making new friends feel valued and at ease. Some of his dearest friends he has had since early elementary. During the flood and other disasters, Judah jumped into action to muck out homes and initiated getting other friends to join the efforts. He was a defender and would stick up for anyone being mistreated. He intentionally spent time with a boy in elementary school who just didn't fit in. We are deeply grateful for the friends who consistently stuck with Judah and stood up for him through many years and through many trials when the tides turned against him.

Judah was a proud and dedicated big brother. He was tender and doting on each new baby sibling - singing and reading to them, trying to teach them how to drum by holding their arms in his, and sharing his beloved blue blanket with them when they cried. He was helpful and careful with them as they grew - fetching diapers, watching them if I had to step out of the room, and rummaging for a lost pacifier when needed. He was encouraging and challenging with them - cheering them in their musical performances and team sports. He didn't fail in the oldest brother role of razzing and stretching them either - trying to get them into whatever he was into, teasing and checking them, all in love, but all in superiority, too. As they all grew up, he moved into listening and guiding them - long phone calls with his baby sister, reaching out to a brother who was frustrated with him, inviting them into his slightly more grown up activities.

When Judah left for college we made a little hard copy photo album of family and all the fun of his growing up for him to take with him. Papa thought it would land with a dud, but Judah cried and cried. He loved family. He cherished our core values. He knew he had been given the richest of gifts - gifts of love and honor, of truth and healthy boundaries. He'd call me from school and say how he had been looking through the album, listening to our favorite family musicians, and crying missing us. And maybe crying with some regrets, too, that some of his choices strayed from those core values we had cultivated as a family.

When I think about what defined Judah the most, it's music. He was surrounded by music at home and church from infancy - dancing in the living room to Papa's guitar and hand drums, or with Mama to Sinead O'Connor. He would beg to sit right behind the drummers at church to watch their feet and all the mechanics of the kit. He was drumming from age One on up. By two he could play riffs and play along with songs like an adult. By age 4 and 5 he would spend an entire hour drumming on his mini kit in his room just for fun. His ear and timing were uncanny.

The opportunity for violin came in elementary school with Mr. Fuller at BRCVPA and opened up so much more knowledge and skill for him. He learned theory, took off improvising, and began creating his own songs. In high school he was privileged to play in Mr. Frazier's excellent BRHS orchestra and in small jazz ensembles with Mr. Hinson. They played all over town and in NYC and Chicago receiving accolades along the way.

Judah worked diligently to refine his violin skills, earning music scholarships at LSU and Loyola. At Loyola he got to learn from, play with, and be inspired by world renown teachers and resident artists. Simultaneously, he played great music in bands with friends and wrote and performed his own beautifully composed songs all over BR and New Orleans.

He loved all kinds of music. He introduced us to great groups and songs on a regular basis. He recognized the profound influence that the music of his childhood had on him. There are artists that our family has bonded around during different stages of life, and we all cherish the connection they bring.

Judah was also a hard worker and valued bringing his best to every job he had. His efforts were recognized and his employers and co-workers knew they could depend on him. At the Chloe in New Orleans, his dedication and charisma were honored with precious friendships, generous training, promotions, and a vibrant new career path - cooking exquisite food and serving guests with excellence.

Just recently, Judah had begun to shift gears in order to move toward some bright and hope filled goals. He stepped away from the extremely long hours of kitchen work in order to take better care of himself and have time for more life. He was planning a move to Virginia to get a fresh start. He was returning to music and expressed his desire to finish school so he could make music his life's work.

We have always been proud of his thoughtfulness, intentionality, hard work, humility in seeking out wise counsel, vulnerability in the midst of difficulties, and steady efforts to grow into all he was created to be. Almost 23 years with him was not nearly enough!