Last summer my daughter Bonnie told me she was planning to take a handful of leave days from her job in the U.S. Navy to come home to Boise for her birthday. Flights to and from Honolulu aren’t the cheapest so I figured this was an important event for her. I asked her what she was trying to create.

“My last birthday sucked,” she exclaimed. Everyone who has experienced Bonnie knows that she is blunt, honest, and impassioned. “I was away from all of you guys and all of my friends. I didn’t really know what to do - so I didn’t end up doing anything - and then I was miserable.”

I felt bad for her wondering if I could have done more to support her first birthday away from home. Her next statement pulled me from looking over my shoulder to dreaming about what her next birthday could look like. “Dad, you bought Kona her first beer on her 21st birthday and then you bought Stephen his first legal beer too. I know I could have a good time with my friends here this year, but I’d really like to spend this one with you.”

I was pretty blown away from the specialness of her request. It isn’t like I purposely set up this tradition to share a beer with my adult kids. It kind of just happened out of our relationships together. Bonnie had observed those occasions with her siblings and attached some value to it and now it was her turn. When she spoke it out loud it birthed something in my heart too.

Our whole family vacationed in Hawaii this last October. We sent three days on Oahu where Bonnie showed us around Pearl Harbor and some of her favorite haunts and hangouts. Then we all spent a week on Kauai in an Airbnb that we rented together on the north side of the Island. During one of our excursions Bonnie informed us that she would be participating in some naval training in January that would keep her from coming home. On the flight home I realized that instead of being focused on the the great times we had just had I found myself grieving that I’d miss out celebrating Bonnie’s birthday with her in person.

I find it easy to get stuck in regret mode. Self-pity is way too familiar of a companion to me. One of the questions Jamie asks me when I get down is “What do you want to create?” In this case I knew what it was. I wanted to make my way back to Hawaii and buy Bonnie that first beer.

By the time we landed in Phoenix the idea had become a dream and the dream was morphing into a plan. I braved to share it with Kona as we were searching for Americanos and her gleeful response thinking about me surprising her sister cemented my resolve.

My biggest roadblock was the cost of the airline ticket. It had taken us nearly two years to save up for the Hawaii vacation and now I wanted to purchase another flight that was only three months away. How to you find the extra money in your budget to fly to Honolulu to buy your daughter a beer? Within that question was my answer - beer. I wondered how much money I could save if the next beer I purchased was that one for Bonnie - meaning no more six packs of Irish Death at the supermarket, no more tall drafts of my favorite micro brews at the Cheers down the block.

It was easier than that I thought it would be. I just kept imagining what it would be like to surprise Bonnie.

I still enjoyed a few beers. Other friends and family took me out for a drink or brought beers over to our house around for the holidays. The resolve was good for me. I pinched pennies even tighter. I found an inexpensive ticket. I also located a couch on Airbnb that I could crash on for just $35 a night in Waikiki.

A few times I thought Bonnie had got wind of my plans. Two weeks before her birthday Bonnie posted this longing in our family chat room, “One of you want to come to Hawaii and hang out with me?”

I just respond, “Sure!” thinking that telling her the truth was good. I hoped she didn’t think I was being serious.

Two days before her birthday she messaged me, “I miss you.”

And then on the morning of her birthday as I was boarding the plane for Hawaii we had the following text conversation:

“Happy birthday Bonnie! I hope that you have a really special day!”

“Thanks dad! Love you!”

“You are 21!”

“It's crazy!”

Bonnie’s friends Katie and Clay were in on my plans and had set up a birthday dinner for Bonnie at the Yardhouse and had invited many of Bonnie’s workmates. As I was walking to the restaurant my phone rang and I looked down to see it was Bonnie calling. Knowing she was also heading to the party I was afraid that she had seen me. Instead of answering the phone I messaged her a little white lie.

“I'm in a meeting can I call you back?”

“Sure.”

“Whatcha doing?”

“Heading to the Yardhouse and I didnt get to talk to you today.”

“It's been a crazy day for me. We'll connect in a little bit.”

“Okay, love you.”

“I love you too!”

A few minutes later Clay met me outside the restaurant with the beer I’d set up for him to get ready for me. In the video you can see the surprise, how quick Bonnie bounded up to hug me, and that the most expensive beer I’ve ever purchased became little more than a prop.