Eight Birthdays Later: When Birthday Traditions Change

By Martha McGeehon, Everly’s Mom

When Everly died, we found ourselves wrestling with what we would do about her birthday.

Birthdays have always been a big deal in our family. We love planning parties, gathering family and friends, and celebrating our children. It felt natural that we would continue that tradition for Everly.

The first birthday after her death, we planned a celebration at the Butterfly House, a place that held special meaning for our family. We invited family and friends who loved Everly and who had walked alongside us through the hardest year of our lives. We ate cake, released butterflies, celebrated and remembered.

At the time, it felt exactly right.

The following year looked completely different.

COVID had changed everyone’s plans for everything. Instead of a large gathering, we had a small family picnic and birthday cake. Friends and family mailed us “forEverly” coloring pages to remind us that even if we couldn’t celebrate together, Everly was still remembered and loved. It wasn’t what we would have planned, but it became meaningful in its own way.

Over the years, Everly’s birthday has continued to evolve.

Some years we invited friends to join us for a park picnic and cake. Other years we kept things small and spent the day together as a family. We’ve visited the zoo or botanical gardens, shared special meals, and found quiet ways to spend time together.

This year looked different again.

The day was filled with the normal chaos of family life: A school musical, a class carwash and a 5K. By the time the day was over, we managed to squeeze in a quick trip for ice cream together.

A few days later, Everly’s brother and sister decided they didn’t want Everly’s birthday to pass without a party. They invited friends over for a cookout and cupcakes. We also spent time together assembling birthday cake kits for our local food pantry so other families could celebrate birthdays too.

It looked different than the Butterfly House.

It was also exactly right.

One of the lessons I’ve learned over the years is that traditions can change without meaning that your love has changed.

For a long time, I struggled with that.

We still throw big birthday parties for our living children. We still celebrate their milestones in a big way. The years when Everly’s birthday was quieter, when it was just the four of us sharing cake or spending time together, I sometimes wondered if we were doing enough.

Was a small celebration enough?

Were we honoring her the way we should?

Should we be doing more?

Over time, I’ve realized that what matters most isn’t the specific tradition.

What matters is the intention behind it.

For our family, the common thread through every birthday has been making time for Everly.

No matter how busy life gets.

No matter what season we’re in.

Whether the celebration includes 100 people, 10 people, or just the four of us, we carve out time to acknowledge that this is her day.

That has stayed the same even when the traditions themselves have changed.

If you’re approaching your child’s birthday, I want to offer you something I wish someone had told me years ago: you do not have to figure out the perfect tradition.

You do not have to decide in year one what you’ll do forever.

You do not have to keep doing something simply because it felt right in a different season of grief.

What feels meaningful this year may not feel meaningful next year.

What feels impossible right now may someday become a tradition you treasure.

It’s okay to change your mind.

It’s okay to try something new.

It’s okay to keep it simple.

It’s also okay if you can’t get out of bed.

After eight birthdays, I’ve learned that the tradition isn’t the point.

The point is making space for her.

Some years that space may be filled with friends, family, cake, and celebration. Other years it may be much quieter.

For us it’s not the tradition that matters, it’s the space we create to celebrate and remember.