There’s something about May 1 that never feels ordinary. Maybe it’s the way spring starts to lean fully into itself—brighter light, softer. The world is quietly beginning once again. It could be it’s the rituals we return to, year after year: the messages, the remembering, the private little celebrations that make a date seem like more than a square on that wall calendar.
The magic of May 1 has always had a name.
Elizabeth Jane.
You came into this world under the aurora borealis in Wisconsin. Something larger than us decided your arrival deserved its own kind of blessing. I love imagining it: the night lit up in shifting color, appearing as a beautiful mystery, without warning. Wonder is somehow real. And, some beginnings are marked.
And your name conveys its own meaning, too. Elizabeth is a name meaning “pledged to God.” It feels fitting—steadfast, luminous, quietly strong. It sounds like it’s promised. Even if life gets complicated, there’s that devotion. And Jane in the middle—simple, classic, grounded—like a steady beat under the poetry.
There’s also something special—life-changing, really—about becoming a big sister. It’s a role you grow into while you’re still growing yourself. It becomes a way of loving: protective and annoyed, proud and impatient, fierce and tender—sometimes all in the same hour.
Over the years, we’ve built a whole world together.
- We’ve shared our history. It’s the kind only we can hold, stitched together from common days and unforgettable ones.
- We’ve traded stories until they became part of who we are.
- We’ve laughed so hard it gives you a stitch in the side. It’s enough to turn a bad day into one that’s almost bearable.
- We’ve fought, too (and I honestly can’t even remember what it was about. Perhaps, that’s proof that it was never the point).
- We’ve conspired in those small, sibling ways, making plans, making jokes, making each other feel like we had an ally. You were the one I knew would always be there.
- And we’ve grieved. Those are the heavy parts of life where quietly having someone who knows you completely is its own kind of shelter.
That’s what you are to me, Elizabeth: a shelter. A touchstone. A piece of home I can carry. A sister.
I miss you. I love you. I hope this birthday brings you the kind of joy you deserve—real and lasting. And more than anything, I hope you keep going after what you want, what you dream of, what you’re building.
May May 1 always keep its magic.
May you always know how deeply you’re loved.
Achieve your dreams. Don’t look back. Keep going.
Happy Birthday, Elizabeth Jane.
Discover more from A Book Geek
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.
