I Thought Using Savings For A Bar Mitzvah Instead Of College Was A Mistake. Here’s What I Got Wrong.

On the days my two sons were born, we began saving for their bar mitzvahs. In Jewish tradition, it’s customary for a 13-year-old to read from the Torah and then have a party to celebrate their symbolic entrance into adulthood. So, instead of putting money into college savings plans, we saved for their 13th birthdays.

When my older son turned 11 and we began planning, I was hesitant to throw a huge bash. The thought of having a formal dance party for our teenage son seemed extravagant and unnecessary. “He doesn’t even dance,” I said, as we sat at the kitchen table one evening considering our options. But my husband and I both knew a DJ would provide more than simply dancing — it would mean games like Coke and Pepsi and prizes like glow sticks, funky sunglasses and hats. A dance party would mean lifting my son in a chair in joy and celebration during the hora.

Both my husband and I had mitzvah celebrations of our own. We knew we wanted to celebrate our children during this milestone in their Jewish journeys, but we struggled to determine how because we thought the typical bar mitzvah party was excessive.

“It’s not his wedding,” I vented to my husband, as I imagined how quickly the payments would accumulate.

“This could be the down payment on his first house,” I said jokingly, as I imagined centerpieces and decorations to enhance a theme of his choice. But beneath the humor, I worried we were making a mistake financially.

“Maybe we can use half our savings and leave the other half for college,” I brainstormed, trying to rationalize throwing a mini gala for our teenager. But that would only be possible if we cut our guest list in half.

We considered having a kid-only party just for our son’s friends. I visited an indoor soccer field as we contemplated unconventional venues for a large group of 13-year-old boys, but we discovered these unique locations wouldn’t save us money because we’d have to bring in our own food, tables, chairs, and other necessities, and that came at a high cost. We also needed a location that could accommodate the service, and that limited us further. Every time we considered a less expensive option, we realized we’d be spending more in unforeseen places.

Back and forth, we discussed our preferences for months. We knew we wanted to celebrate in some capacity, and we didn’t want to regret not having everyone important to us there. The most affordable venues that fit our needs and the DJ known to throw lively, unforgettable parties booked quickly, so we went for it before it was too late. Despite some guilt and the possibility that we might regret our decision, we set out to plan a large bash for our son’s bar mitzvah.

Last spring, when my husband had his first routine colonoscopy at 45 years old, doctors found a large, cancerous polyp and he had the right portion of his colon removed. By catching his cancer just in time, he not only dodged the need for any further treatment, but saved his life. Amid planning, it was the reminder I needed: Being healthy is reason to celebrate because we’re not guaranteed our future. I stopped worrying about living in the moment — about spending money to celebrate parenthood and our son while we can.

My own health journey also confirmed this revelation. As someone who lives with multiple sclerosis, I’m aware that no one is invincible. Being able to celebrate life is an opportunity not everyone has.

We booked a venue, DJ, photographer and decorator. I bought a dress as elegant as the gown I wore on my wedding day. And then we counted down until the day arrived.

We weren’t following a trend. We weren’t throwing the party we thought others expected. We were planning a celebration of health and happiness and of knowing we were raising a child who will become a caring and impactful adult. I discovered that those were more than enough reasons to have a lavish coming of age celebration for our son, even if it meant the college savings plans would have to wait.

On a brisk November day, after two years of planning, we had the best evening of our lives thus far at my son’s bar mitzvah. He read from the Torah and led a warm, inspiring service alongside the rabbi. Then, we drank cocktails, danced like we were in college again and watched our son celebrate with all his friends.

The party began with a special mother-son moment as we danced together to “Count on Me” by Bruno Mars. My husband and I toasted our son as we shared his funniest moments and our hopes for his future. Our teenager who doesn’t dance proved that when given a dance floor, a DJ who knows the songs that will pump through your blood like energy and a room filled with everyone who loves you, you’ll have the time of your life. He jumped the night away with his friends, and we’ve never seen him have more fun than he did dancing to “It’s My House” on the dance floor.

We awoke the next morning high on life and with zero regret. “I can’t believe it’s over,” I lamented repeatedly in the coming days. “I wish we could do it again,” my son said as he remembered dancing to J-Kwon with his friends encircling him. But as we reveled in the warmth of having had the perfect evening, I realized that although celebrations only last a few hours, reliving a momentous evening in your mind and through photos and video for the rest of your life is permanent. The high never dissolves completely.

I get it now. Parties I once considered extravagant and wasteful I now see as money well spent. College will come in due time, and perhaps my kids will take out loans just as I did. But we’ll never forget the smile on our faces as we danced into the evening celebrating our son with everyone we love surrounding us.

These celebrations make life wonderful. They’re the reason everything else falls into place. And lucky for me, my younger son turns 13 in three years.