We interrupt this regularly scheduled series for a very important announcement: today is our son’s birthday.
For the first time in nineteen years he isn’t here to celebrate in person. That feels strange and a little bittersweet. (Not that I usually manage to get his cake baked on the exact day—if that ever happened it would be a small miracle.)
Look at that little face—wasn’t he utterly adorable? I remember those pajamas that became too short and how I simply cut the feet out so he could keep wearing them. Was I being thrifty and practical, or a bit tacky? No need to debate it—those small choices and imperfections are part of the memories we hold dear.
Since this series is focused on cooking, it feels fitting to include Joel. He loved anything related to the kitchen from a very young age. In the pictures he’s clearly more interested in tasting the cookie dough than in following the recipe—if memory serves, that was the year I decided that baking Christmas sugar cookies should become an annual family tradition. The experiment didn’t exactly take: the kids ate so much of the dough while rolling it out that we barely had anything left to bake. We laughed about it then, and I still smile thinking about the way they hovered around the counter, sticky fingers and all.
Happy birthday, Joel. We miss your smiling face around here and we hope you have a wonderful day of celebration, however you choose to spend it. Even when life pulls us in different directions, family traditions—imperfect, messy, and full of love—stay with us.
Birthdays away from home make you reflect on the small rituals that shape a childhood: the pajamas with the cut-off feet, the dusty flour handprints on the counter, the laughter around the table, and the way someone learns to love both cooking and eating in equal measure. Those moments aren’t grand or perfectly curated; they’re everyday, ordinary, and utterly meaningful.
While we won’t be sharing cake in person this year, we’ll be celebrating in spirit. We’ll look through old photos, call or message, or send a little something that might arrive when it’s needed most—perhaps a favorite treat, a handwritten note, or a simple video message that recreates the sound of the kitchen and the joy of those cookie-filled afternoons. Sometimes the best celebrations are quiet and reflective, full of memories rather than fanfare.
To parents and family members reading this: hold on to the small, silly traditions. They are the moments your children will remember most vividly. They might not want the same traditions as adults, but those early memories—of baking, of shared laughter, of sticky fingers—become the stories that get retold and cherished.
So here’s to you, Joel: to the boy who loved dough more than rules, who wore his pajamas with character, and who taught us that the sweetest parts of family life are the imperfect ones. May your day be warm, happy, and filled with the kind of comfort that comes from home. We miss you and we’re celebrating you today—near or far.