Jack’s birthday is today. May 19 is a big day for our big guy, but he has to often to share it with everything from his sister’s state track meet to his own 8th grade promotion to late spring planting and heat checking cows. A spring birthday needs to be flexible in its celebration timing, and Jack has forever been going with the flow for his special day. While this year’s actual birthday came with a fresh driver’s permit, it also with a little bit of a subdued celebration, almost like we had to get permission to celebrate.
We lost my dad a week ago, and while celebrating Jack’s birthday was still at the forefront of our mind, our sadness, exhaustion, and just getting used to not having Grandpa Ted here on the day made it feel a little different.
So I did something I didn’t expect to have to do: I gave myself permission to celebrate. Not in a big, loud way, just in the way our house could manage this week. I wrapped gifts, but not until I actually bought the wrapping paper during my lunch break. We ate leftover church-lady desserts and opened presents later than normal, and I kept catching myself thinking, Is it okay that we’re doing this? Grief has a way of making joy feel like you have to earn it first.
But I’m learning that celebration isn’t denial; it’s gratitude. It’s a small act of faith that says love is still here, even when someone we love is not. And honestly, Jack made it easy: he didn’t need a perfect day, he just wanted his people close. His calm, steady way of receiving whatever the day brings reminded me that “enough” can still be enough.
Jack also showed his maturity this year, growing not only in size and stature this year, but also in faith and maturity. Sidelined by a torn ACL last fall, Jack has had to work hard and be patient in his recovery. He has had to find ways to belong that didn’t include sports on the front lines, but rather, on the sidelines, encouraging others as he watches. He has grown in his faith and serves with kindness and strong character at our church. For a 15-year-old, that’s a big deal.
Dear Jack,
Watching you accept a quieter birthday reminded me of something I want you to carry into the louder years ahead: you don’t have to wait until life is perfectly stitched up to be grateful. Some seasons are filled with wins and milestones, and other seasons are tender and heavy. Both can be true on the same day. You can miss someone deeply and still laugh at the dinner table. You can be tired and still show up for the people you love.
So, buddy, here’s my advice: keep being steady. Let God shape you in the waiting, whether it’s an ACL recovery, a hard day at school, or a moment when you’re not sure what comes next. Don’t confuse “slow” with “stuck.” Keep doing the next right thing, keep encouraging the people around you, and keep making room for simple joy. You’ll never regret celebrating the good you’re given, even when it comes wrapped in ordinary moments.
Love,
Mom