Planning a Birthday Party

It’s hard planning a birthday celebration for your kid. Should it be at home or at a venue? Does there need to be a theme? Should the entire class be invited? What about the soccer team?

It’s even harder planning something for your kid when he is no longer around. Should I take the day off? Should we involve Sally and Jaden, or let them stay in their schedule? Should we go out for a special dinner? Should we visit the cemetery?

I’ve been living this routine for fifteen years and every year is different. Sometimes, I don’t want to see anyone. Sometimes, I want to drown myself in Simon’s Heart. Sometimes, I want to spend the entire day with Sally and Jaden. Sometimes, Phyllis and I disappear. Sometimes, I wander around crowded places with no agenda.

Today, we’re spending part of the evening with Corey LaJoie, a NASCAR driver. He’s joining us on Facebook Live to draw the winning ticket for the Ultimate Driving Experience. This is the best we could do. This milestone birthday usually results in a driver’s license or permit. That’s not in the cards for us, so we’re using the theme of driving to raise money for Simon's Heart. If you are so inclined, you can purchase a $25 ticket here – bit.ly/Simon16. It’s kind of like planning a celebration, right?

While the motion of this day varies every year, the emotion is pretty consistent. It is a day of sadness and reflection. It is a day of imagination. It is a day of clarity and appreciation.

Almost everyone can relate to my first paragraph. Fortunately, most people cannot relate to my second. However, this day always reminds me of the gift Simon left behind. The awareness of and compassion for those who don’t know how hard it is to plan a birthday celebration for their child. They may have lost a child, or could never have one.

The best gifts can be used over and over and last a long time - like this one (and the Steve Austin doll and rocket ship my parents got me as a kid). I never go on a vacation without thinking about the parents who cannot afford one, and the children who don’t have parents to take them away. As I sit behind the wheel of my car, I often think of those who are physically unable to drive, and those who do not own an automobile. The scenarios are endless. Empathy is a gift that never loses its utility and gets better with time.

Under “normal” circumstances, today would be a day for us to gather and have cake. For me, normal died fifteen years ago. For others, normal dies every day. So instead, I offer you a plate of empathy, courtesy of Simon. Spend a few minutes wandering around reflecting on your life, with all of its challenges and blessings, and do it in the shoes of another. Happy Birthday, Simon.