Prologue

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 On April 1, 2023, we celebrated my 50th birthday. 


My husband knew, that beyond any gift, what I truly value in life is time with my people and meaningful words. With that in mind, he arranged for a beautiful chef-catered meal for us, our two sons, Jonah and Elijah, our son-by-choice Benjamin, my parents, and our dear friends, the Drews. He also secretly arranged for my brother and sister to fly in for the event from their respective corners of the world and surprise me. 


He loves me so well. 


The dinner was delicious, nourishing, and thoughtfully constructed. The conversation was joyful and lively, laughter ringing out easily. It was all so perfect. But somewhere between the 4th and 5th course, perfection became transcendence. Fresh wine was poured, and one by one, my precious, soulful people anointed me with words. Words of deep gratitude. Words of rich memory. Words of profound love. 


It took my breath away. 


In turn, I looked at each one seated there and returned the blessing. Gratitude. Memory. Love. And for Jonah, Elijah, and Benjamin, one more thing - an acknowledgement of their unique, God-given gifts and that they are seen. They are beloved. They have purpose. My boys. My riches. It was…holy. How can any heart hold so much? 


After dinner, Jonah found me and threw his arms around me for one of his famous bear hugs, tears in his eyes. “Momma,” he said, “I am so HAPPY you heard how much you mean to everyone. You deserve that so much. I don’t think I could ever say everything you mean to me, but you mean everything to me.” My tender, soul-mate child. 


It was my very best birthday. My happiness was utterly complete that night. The giving and receiving of love, a complete motion. The highest use of our humanness.


Jonah was gone three days later. 


I am so grateful I got to say all the things. 



Say all the things. All the time. Then say them again. 

Repeat.





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