Best… Day… Ever!
It’s one of those relatively common questions that you’re asked. Usually it’s asked in situations that render it completely insincere: First dates, job interviews, that sort of thing. And usually you answer without really putting much thought into it, and you come up with something that fits the bill convincingly enough without being too personal, and usually without being completely honest. I have to wonder how many people can honestly answer this particular question because it can be a tough one. I can though, and I’ve been thinking about it for five years without my answer having wavered one bit. It’s an honest answer, and one I wouldn’t trade for anything in the world.
The question I’m talking about is “What was the happiest moment of your life”, or some variant of that (“What was your greatest day ever?”, “What was the best thing that ever happened to you?”, etc.). For me that moment happened in a location I never would have expected it: a deserted terminal at Boston Logan Airport on a Tuesday evening.
On this particular Tuesday evening in 2006, my daughter, who was then about 2-1/3 years old, was scheduled to return from a trip to TN with her mother. I went to the airport to meet her and was waiting as close to the gate as I could possibly get. The place was mostly deserted, except for the TSA agent who was making sure nobody entered through the exit. I wondered more than once if he was going to doze off, and if he did, if I could actually sneak into the gate area and wait for the flight to arrive there. But despite looking mind-numbingly bored, he never did completely doze off.
Eventually my daughter’s flight arrived, and people began to meander out through the exit. At first it was just a couple of people, then the crowd grew thicker as the bulk of the passengers deplaned. Just as the crowd started to thin out again I saw her: My daughter, her hair in two stubby pigtails sticking straight out from the sides of her head, wearing shorts and a pink shirt, pulling her tiny pink suitcase on wheels (more than likely emblazoned with the image of one or more of the Disney Princesses, something which she assures me now, at the ripe old age of 7, she has completely outgrown and is not the least bit interested in anymore). She only got about 10 feet out of the exit when she spotted me, and the biggest smile I’ve ever seen crossed her face. This is when the best moment begins, and the 15-second clock starts now (this will all make sense in a couple more paragraphs, I promise).
She started running towards me, her little legs pumping as fast as she could, her eyes wide and the enormous smile not fading one bit. She was pumping her right arm up and down as she ran, and her left kept holding on to that suitcase, which was suddenly rolling on those little wheels much faster than I’m sure the manufacturer had ever intended. She got about halfway across the floor, listing to one side a bit due to the suitcase, when she realized that the suitcase was slowing her down, so she just let go of it. It dropped to the floor with a clatter but she didn’t look back, didn’t hesitate one bit, only sped up since she no longer had that extra weight slowing her down. It was one of the most touching things I’ve ever seen since it seemed so unlike a kid at that age to just drop her bag, probably full of her favorite stuffed animals and a coloring book or two, with absolutely no regard for what happened to it at all. Many a person smiled, some laughed (including the semi-conscious TSA agent, I noticed), and a few even pointed and gasped. I saw her coming and crouched down to her height, my arms spread wide, and she barreled straight into me so hard that I’m still amazed I didn’t fall over backwards. I picked her up and held her for what seemed like forever and at the same time like far too short a span of time. When the hug eased up she looked me in the eye, yelled “DADDY!”, and gave me a big kiss.
That’s where the 15-second clock ends. Those 15 seconds are burned into my memory so strongly that I can play them back like a movie at will. That was easily the greatest moment of my life, and it was the moment that made me realize what having a daughter was all about.
By the way, those Disney Princesses that she’s “not the least bit interested” in anymore? I’m taking her to Disney World for a week soon, and I told her that we were having dinner with the Princesses not one, but two nights. She didn’t mention this fact for a while, but tonight as she was sitting in the bathtub she asked if we were still going to do that, and exactly which Princesses I thought would be there. And I couldn’t help noticing that she had a very big smile on her face when she asked…