Missed the beginning? [Read Part 1 of the Seasons of Love series here.]

A year ago today, I set out to catch that 55-mph sign before the calendar flipped to 56.

That milestone snuck in two days before I missed my chance.

The chase became more than a photo op—it became the heartbeat of this story.

Big Red Bow Birthday is love and loss wrapped in one box, tied with a big red bow, and labeled Happy Birthday.

It’s the milestone where celebrations and heartaches arrive in a single gift.

September’s Red Heart

Amid the last-year-of-high-school excitement for the girls, Alex and I find ourselves coordinating when we’ll break for lunch and making plans without them. Skylar’s plans happen on college breaks now, and Alexandra—she’s not home much. It’s just the two of us, and of course, when are we going to walk the dog?

A far cry from the excitement of yesteryear.

Birthdays are always a little mysterious. Are we supposed to be happy, a little sad, or pretend the day didn’t happen at all? We play games with time because the truth is hard: it keeps moving, handing us new milestones whether we’re ready or not. Yet maybe that’s the quiet gift. Without these markers, how would we ever glimpse eternity or measure the love that keeps growing through every year?

Every year of my childhood, Dad was already deep into training camp. Unless Mom reminded him to call, he wouldn’t have remembered the date at all. Probably the greatest key to Dad’s success was that he didn’t remember dates. They had no particular meaning to him, so he wasn’t sad that he was missing them. The cake and laughter came anyway, but always with that quiet space where he wasn’t.

Learning to Let Go

It’s a new concept for me: understanding that grief can live inside celebration, and that letting go is part of love.

The falling of the leaves reminds me of those cancer days five years ago when my hair fell out—22, 17, 25, 19 strands a night in my silk nightcap. I counted, reminding myself of the rhythm of nature. I figured if the trees could shed their leaves and still stand strong, couldn’t I?

Letting go with grace and glory became my quiet prayer.

Celebrating Here and Now

Are we celebrating yet?

Of course we are. We have Taylor Swift to remind us what it felt like to be young and fearless in love. And we have our grown kids to teach us what their generation is about. Without the girls, would I ever be found shopping in Sephora?

But there’s joy in wandering the aisles, knowing your daughter is somewhere nearby, so when a sales associate asks if you need help, you don’t laugh—do I ever!—you just smile and say, “No thanks,” because you belong here anyway.

Love and loss. Heartbeats and heartaches. Milestones met and missed.

I had one year to take a photo with the 55 speed limit sign. I remember all the trips where I tried to capture that shot. Alex drove while my hair whipped wildly, and every time we missed the sign. Note to the wise: at 55 miles an hour, you can’t catch a stationary sign. I filmed videos hoping one might catch it, but no luck. I still have those failed, funny clips—proof of how hard it is to catch fleeting time. A week before the birthday, I finally got the photo. Barely.

And then there’s the deeper joy: on Friday Alex and I celebrated our wedding anniversary—September 19, 1998. He’d met my parents for the first time that Thanksgiving and asked Dad for my hand. Dad said, “My daughter’s a princess and you always better treat her as one.” We still laugh about it. He should have run then.

Twenty-seven years later we’re still grounded together on Cloud 9.

What A Big Red Bow Birthday Teaches About Love

Love’s milestones hold both beauty and ache.

Yes, Taylor and Travis may be making headlines and having their big-fun moments, but the deeper story is the staying power—when you’re too old to match the speed-limit sign yet young enough to celebrate sparks.

We took a leap with Fearless and tied it all together in a Big Red Bow Birthday.
Next stop is Midnights—where love keeps showing up long after the confetti falls.

And because every milestone has its outtakes… here are mine. Three attempts, zero photos. Proof you can’t catch a stationary sign at 55 mph—but you can catch a few laughs.

(All filmed last year, during the very chase that ended just before I turned 56.)

Big Red Bow Bloopers