Twenty Five: A Birthday Like No Other

This year was the first time ever that Asaf could truly be part of the preparations for his birthday. And what a difference that has made. For the first time, I could ask him what he wanted; What gift he would enjoy; and how he would like to celebrate. And he answered with a list full of his desires.

A few years ago, Asaf was given some money as a gift. It’s been sitting quietly in the bank ever since. I didn’t know what to do with it, and i really had no idea what would make him happy. So I waited. Or maybe, in truth, we were waiting.

The answer came when Asaf joined his cycling group. He found something that brings him peace, purpose, and freedom. And now, he could put it into words what cycling meant for him:

"Simply a soul-releasing activity. I love to ride."

We bought him a tandem, so we can ride together on the many cycling routes in our area. A gift not just of wheels, but of voice, of agency, of joy.

And last night, we inaugurated the tandem bike for the first time. I will never forget the look on his face. His smile said everything.

This year, Asaf also did something else for the first time: He blessed himself. He wrote: "I wish myself the strength to rise above the daily challenges and to open a door for others to understand my fears."

What insight. What courage. He didn’t ask for ease, he asked for strength. He didn’t just ask to be understood, he wished for a door to open, so that understanding could truly happen.

And then came the blessings from his friends. One by one, they wrote to him. Not just warm words, but real love, real friendship, real connection.

And even before I read their messages, I could feel it: How much they care about him. How much he matters. How deeply he belongs.

That sense of belonging, that place among equals, fills my heart more than I can put into words.

This is what we’ve always wanted. Not just inclusion, belonging. Not just access, connection. Not just existing in the world but living fully within it.

And now, at twenty-five, Asaf is doing just that. He is smiling. He is riding. He is celebrating. He is sharing his thoughts, his wishes, his fears, and his dreams.

And I, I am watching him fly.

My wish for him is simple: That he continues to smile like that. That he continues to enjoy life. That he continues to grow, to connect, and most of all to keep chasing and fulfilling his dreams.

This is just the beginning. And his wings are wide open.