Trey has three best friends: Robert, Jack, and Wyatt. They’re like “The Sandlot” movie, and it cracks me up seeing them together, but this story isn’t about their friend group; it’s about Jack.
In August, Jack’s mom called, asking if he could live with us for a while. We agreed because Jack is like family—but I did get calls from people concerned that I’m doing too much while fighting cancer. “It’ll be okay,” I said. “He’s a good kid.”
It’s been almost 4 months since he moved in, and I’ve seen changes in all of us. While I make breakfast for the kids, we’ve had some deep conversations. Jack and Trey laugh about how they met in second grade and then reminisce over what a small world it is. (For example: My oldest daughter, Ruby, is a tattoo artist who learned vital skills from her mentor. And guess who trained her mentor decades before? Jack’s grandfather! Now, his legacy is living on in her AND his grandson lives with us.)
On Tuesday, we went out for Ruby’s birthday. At one point, Jack whispered to me and Trey, “I didn’t know this was for her birthday. I didn’t get her a gift.”
We told him not to worry, but he still seemed concerned. Dinner went past quickly, and nothing exciting happened; it was just another birthday.
“Here’s the check,” the waiter said. “You guys sure you want to leave? Why not sing a song?” He pointed to a small stage that boasted a microphone.
“Thursday only!” I read the stage’s sign. “Karaoke!” No wonder the waiter joked about it. It wasn’t Thursday.
Jack paled, then pushed his chair back and stood. “I’ll do it,” he said boldly, but despite that resolve, his hands visibly shook. “I’ll sing a song. For Ruby. For her 23rd birthday.”
So he went up onstage and started looking at all the customers throughout the restaurant. Trey and I glanced at each other, both worried.
Jack’s voice wafted out soft at first, so our table began cheering for him. He gaped as if somehow realizing—in that exact moment—how much he means to us… That’s when his voice grew in power. Cooks stopped cooking momentarily to see who was singing—and even rapping! A few waiters set down trays and stared. Some woman in a festive red dress came and DANCED in front of Jack. Afterward, Trey and Jack even sang together, and Ruby said it was one of the best birthdays she’s ever had.
After we got home, I sat on the couch alone, thinking what a blessing Jack is. He brings a sort of magic to our family—even on Ruby’s birthday, he breathed life into the moment and made it unforgettable. “I feel like,” I suddenly heard Jack talking to Trey in the other room, “I feel like part of your family. I feel… like you guys actually care about me.”
“You’re my brother now. And, Jack… I always wanted a brother,” Trey said.
I thought about my baby who died. My little baby boy who would’ve been older than Trey. I wish Trey could’ve grown up with him. “Zeke Jackson,” I whispered his first and middle name. Zeke would’ve been an amazing big brother, just how Jack is. And as a thought came to me, I gasped: Zeke Jackson. One of his grandma’s called him “Jack”!
Chills ran the length of my body and tears came to my eyes. I somehow felt like Zeke was watching, smiling from Heaven about how beautiful our lives can be. Even though he couldn’t grow up, I still think he’s with us somehow in spirit, cheering every one of us on. It seems like despite distance and sadness, grief and death, nothing can diminish a mother’s love. I went into the kitchen and hugged both the boys. “What was that for?” Trey asked.
I looked at them. “I’m just grateful for both of you.” And when I left the room, my heart felt full to the brim.
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