When Caleb first died, I remember posting on social media about our loss. Friends would comment their condolences and express how heartbroken they were with me. But then I would see their posts of birthday parties or kids sports games or whatever fun they were having. “How can my world feel like it has ended and theirs just keeps going?” I would think.

As time went on, I realized my world hadn’t ended. But there are still days when grief hits so hard that I want everything else to stop. I want to be able to sit in the sadness and remember Caleb. I want to cry without the pressure of only having a few minutes. I want my world to stop so I can remember.

I’m writing this from a junior high gym filled with students playing different band instruments, warming up for their solo ensembles. And I don’t have Kleenex in my pocket.

Today is Caleb’s 13th birthday, each of them celebrated in heaven. In those 13 years, I’ve had two more children. One warming up for his solo ensemble. The other getting ready for his basketball game. My world keeps spinning.

This has been a week where I wanted everything to stop so I could have time to be sad. But yesterday was my best friend’s 40th birthday. Then last night I emceed our school’s fundraising dinner which I helped plan. These are things I love, people I want to celebrate, events I enjoy. Yet my heart sits in conflict between the grief of losing Caleb and the joys of today.

In the months after Caleb first died, I could not compartmentalize my emotions. The check out lady at the grocery store would say “hi how are you?” And I would tell her the truth, “I’m not good. My son just died.” She was not expecting that. Jeff would tell me, “just say ‘fine.’ People don’t really want to know all that.” But with me, what you saw was what you got. My emotions were so raw that I felt like you could look at me and tell my heart was broken.

I’m better at compartmentalizing now. But I don’t necessarily think that’s a good thing. I cried Sunday, Monday and Tuesday. Then I stopped. I stopped thinking about Caleb. I turned off my emotions. I let my world keep spinning so I could celebrate my best friend, so I could plan a fun event, so I could raise money for school, so I can be present at the band ensemble and basketball game. And I do enjoy it all.

I think Caleb would have enjoyed it too. He would have loved a golfing party with my friend. He’d support his brothers at their events and probably have his own too. We’d be planning a special dinner or party with his friends. I wish we had that.

I wish for a lot of things with Caleb. But I know he has the best in Heaven. Someday we’ll be together again. No tears, no pain, no heartache. No compartmentalizing emotions. Just joy.

Happy birthday Caleb! I’ll love you forever. 💙