Happiest and brightest birthday to our tenderhearted, extraordinary boy. Sullivan James O’Leary has been made of magic since the day he was born, on 12/07 at 12:07pm.

I write a letter to Sullivan on his birthday to remind him of his innate worth, curious mind, and wide, warm heart. Today, I will share with you something Jared and I have noticed this week.

Any time a family member or friend says, “Happy birthday, Sullivan!”, he says it right back.

“Happy birthday, Sullivan!” “Happy birthday, Daddy.”

“Jones says, ‘Happy birthday, Sully.’” “Happy birthday, Jones!”

“Happy birthday to you!” “Happy birthday, Grandma.”

I find this so heartbreakingly sweet, so profound, and so representative of this truth: we give so much to our children, and somehow, every ounce we give ultimately finds its way back to us when we neither expect nor predict it. Our love. Our affection. Our once-a-year birthday wish.

“Happy birthday, Sullivan!”   “Happy birthday, Mommy.”

What a child.

What a human.

What a life.