Traditions.

When we went to Germany last year, we took our family birthday banner. I wanted for Andrew to be able to celebrate her birthday with his mom, even though it was a couple days early.

None of us remember where the banner came from, when it first appeared. I’m the keeper of the banner. It goes to restaurants, to other houses, and even, apparently, to Germany.

It’s not a big tradition, but it’s ours.

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We worry, I think, about getting celebrations right, about having the cool traditions, about measuring up to the Pinterest version of a party.

I think that’s pretty dumb.

Pick something. Even something small. And do it. And laugh.

And that will be your family tradition.

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It’s possible that on the mountain we talked about on Monday, where Jesus was glowing and his father said, “This is my son, whom I love, with him I am well pleased”, that if there had been a camera, the photo of Jesus and Moses would have had expressions like these two.

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The delightful thing for me about this picture, in addition to watching the laughter of two people I love, is that it gives me a picture of Andrew with his mom to post for his thirty-sixth birthday, which is tomorrow. He’s in that room. We’re not.

But the love is in both places. We are well pleased.

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