Noah and Fiona. Fiona and Noah. The love and joy just jumps out of every photograph of this mother and son.
She told him that he would change the world, and she believed it. A handful of days ago, she was planning all sorts of things for her brilliant, beautiful boy. Now, Fiona Donohoe is arranging Noah's funeral.
No parent should have to bury a child. It goes against the natural order.
A woman who loses her husband is a widow. A man who loses his wife is a widower. When parents die, the children are called orphans. But there is no word for a mother whose child has died. That's how unnatural it is.
Fiona Donohoe doesn't have the comfort of knowing Noah passed away peacefully. At home or in hospital after a long illness. She didn't have the chance to say goodbye.
There are so many unanswered questions. What was her son doing on the Shore Road, why did he take off his clothes and enter the drain, was he concussed after a fall?
No mother brings a child into the world to leave it in such a way.
For 14 years, Fiona has nurtured and protected her baby. From the photos she has proudly posted on social media, we can see him grow from a cheeky-faced infant crawling on the living-room floor, into an intelligent, incredible young man.
There's Noah seeing Santa, on his new bike, skate-boarding, devouring a huge ice-cream, enjoying a birthday tea, strumming a guitar.
Now, it's a case of all the photos that won't be taken. First school formal, graduation and wedding - all the big days that there will never be. And like all parents who have lost children, Fiona will wonder about the future Noah was denied. What type of man he'd be, the job he'd have, the partner he'd choose, the children he might father. All that potential, taken from him and her.
The grief will be so overwhelming at times, that Fiona will feel like she's drowning. The rest of us - friends and strangers - will offer empathetic words but nobody will truly understand except other parents who have lost a child. It is the loneliest, most desolate path that any mother or father is forced to walk. There is no moving on or getting over it. Time will not make this better. The heartache can't be fixed. As long as a bereaved parent breathes, it hurts.
"A complete dote," is how Fiona describes Noah. They likely faced and fought many battles together, but there was so much fun too.
Two months ago, Fiona "butchered" her son's hair in a lockdown DIY job. She posted the photo of him looking bewildered at the haircut in the bathroom mirror.
"Noah is asking me to finish it. That is as finished as I possibly could do. Feel a horrible mother. #Badmistakeinchaos," she joked.
Like many parents, I've endured the stresses and strains of lockdown. I've shouted and snapped at my kids along the way.
Watching Fiona Donohoe's anguish at the PSNI press conferences on the search for her son is a reminder of what a precious gift our children are.
All over Belfast and beyond, we hoped for the best, but feared for the worst, during those seven long days of searching. We thought of the missing schoolboy first thing in the morning, and last thing at night. Noah Donohoe, the boy who wanted to change the world, has captured and broken our hearts.