When recently asked, “What was the single most important day of your life?” the question proved far more complicated than I initially thought. When your life has been full of important days, how does a person chose the one of utmost importance? As a child, the gauge of importance is slightly skewed. If I knew I was going to Coney Island on Saturday, when asked on Thursday, “What is the most important day of your life?” naturally Saturday would have been the answer. While paging through old photo albums, the obvious stand out: The day my parents brought me home for the first time; a tiny face smeared with chocolate cake on my first birthday; the photograph of a four year old dressed to the nines in front of the school bus on the first day of kindergarten; being crowned prom queen my junior year; or sandwiched between two beaming parents in the gold cap and gown of my alma mater.
Yes, those snapshots of my life reflected important days.
In 1984 when I accepted a job with a small giftware company, I had no idea where the path would lead. But what an amazing journey it was traveling to Atlanta, Dallas, New York, LA, Chicago, Asia and eventually to a lifetime of financial security. I worked hard, but never in my wildest dreams did I expect my generous bosses to afford this small town girl without a college education such opportunity!
Yes, that was certainly life changing and very important to me.
Without question, my wedding day was the best day of my life, but even still, I’m not convinced it was the most important. I recall mom telling me that I would never forget the look on my husband-to-be’s face as I walked down the aisle. When I took dad’s arm and he led me toward the altar, fear was not the look I expected. Certainly, that wasn’t what mom meant! As I grasped Steve’s clammy hands and we recited our vows, I took each and every word very, very seriously (and still do). Fortunately, twenty five years later, he no longer has fear in his eyes when I walk into a room.
Yes, the day I married my soul mate and pledged my love forever was extremely important.
I’ve often joked that I lead the life of Forest Gump. I’ve brushed elbows with celebrities. Kissed a baseball player (OK, so it was Joe Morgan from the Cincinnati Reds at my softball banquet when I was only ten years old and he wasn’t expecting it, but it counts, right?). I have flown on private jets and even shook the hand of a President.
But do important people make your days important?
Of course, I cannot forget the day more than a decade ago when my sister, Nancy, allowed me to witness the birth of her last child. I was honored that she elected to share this private and amazing event with me. I would never experience childbirth myself, but it was still was a lot to ask. She was well aware that I cannot watch ER reruns on television without getting weak in the knees, but watching my nephew Anthony’s arrival into this world; I was in awe, totally focused and oblivious to the needles and blood.
Yes, observing the miracle of a birth is most definitely important.
Do only joyous occasions constitute importance? I’ve experienced some overwhelmingly sad, yet important days, too. Like the day my mother was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s at the ripe young age of fifty-eight. Or one of the saddest day of my life when I signed the papers to admit her into a nursing home (how could I ever get over the fact that she had signed papers years earlier to adopt me and here I was signing the papers to send her away?). What about the day I played God and had a feeding tube inserted to extend her life because 1 wasn’t willing to let her go? And more recently, the warm Sunday evening in March of 2008 when Nancy, Steve, my best friend Tammy and I witnessed my dad pass away at the Hospice Center. Or the day of his funeral when the serviceman played taps while another handed me the tightly folded American flag which just minutes before had graced his casket.
Yes, those snapshots of my life reflected important days.
In 1984 when I accepted a job with a small giftware company, I had no idea where the path would lead. But what an amazing journey it was traveling to Atlanta, Dallas, New York, LA, Chicago, Asia and eventually to a lifetime of financial security. I worked hard, but never in my wildest dreams did I expect my generous bosses to afford this small town girl without a college education such opportunity!
Yes, that was certainly life changing and very important to me.
Without question, my wedding day was the best day of my life, but even still, I’m not convinced it was the most important. I recall mom telling me that I would never forget the look on my husband-to-be’s face as I walked down the aisle. When I took dad’s arm and he led me toward the altar, fear was not the look I expected. Certainly, that wasn’t what mom meant! As I grasped Steve’s clammy hands and we recited our vows, I took each and every word very, very seriously (and still do). Fortunately, twenty five years later, he no longer has fear in his eyes when I walk into a room.
Yes, the day I married my soul mate and pledged my love forever was extremely important.
I’ve often joked that I lead the life of Forest Gump. I’ve brushed elbows with celebrities. Kissed a baseball player (OK, so it was Joe Morgan from the Cincinnati Reds at my softball banquet when I was only ten years old and he wasn’t expecting it, but it counts, right?). I have flown on private jets and even shook the hand of a President.
But do important people make your days important?
Of course, I cannot forget the day more than a decade ago when my sister, Nancy, allowed me to witness the birth of her last child. I was honored that she elected to share this private and amazing event with me. I would never experience childbirth myself, but it was still was a lot to ask. She was well aware that I cannot watch ER reruns on television without getting weak in the knees, but watching my nephew Anthony’s arrival into this world; I was in awe, totally focused and oblivious to the needles and blood.
Yes, observing the miracle of a birth is most definitely important.
Do only joyous occasions constitute importance? I’ve experienced some overwhelmingly sad, yet important days, too. Like the day my mother was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s at the ripe young age of fifty-eight. Or one of the saddest day of my life when I signed the papers to admit her into a nursing home (how could I ever get over the fact that she had signed papers years earlier to adopt me and here I was signing the papers to send her away?). What about the day I played God and had a feeding tube inserted to extend her life because 1 wasn’t willing to let her go? And more recently, the warm Sunday evening in March of 2008 when Nancy, Steve, my best friend Tammy and I witnessed my dad pass away at the Hospice Center. Or the day of his funeral when the serviceman played taps while another handed me the tightly folded American flag which just minutes before had graced his casket.
