My Happiest Memory

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 Last week at prenatal yoga, we did a pose for an extended period of time and our instructor asked us to think of our happiest memory. “What IS my happiest memory?” I thought. Nothing immediately jumped out at me. I considered the usual: wedding day, engagement, Benjamin’s birth, all days filled with joy, but none of them seemed as if they were hands down the happiest so I kept thinking.

Then a series of images filled my head…simple ones. I thought of Saturday mornings when Benjamin races into our room on his little toddler feet to snuggle in our bed, saying something adorable or singing a little song to himself. Moments when Daniel and I look at him and then look at each other, silently communicating….isn’t this wonderful?! I remembered the evening after we found out we were pregnant with Benjamin, lying next to each other in bed in quiet wonder at the miracle that life is…the gift that had been bestowed on us. I thought of an evening a couple of weeks ago when Daniel and I had a date night: we went to evening Mass, went out to dinner, then came home and prayed the Rosary together. Afterward I looked at him and told him how grateful I am that we are sharing this life of faith together and he held my hand and brought it to his lips. I felt so loved, so safe, so overjoyed to be at his side learning to love God together. Yesterday, Benjamin was playing with his crane truck, narrating his own little story as he manipulated blocks in the claw, pretending to drop them in a dump truck, his precious voice prattling on, interjected with “see me, mama!” “watch this!” as I sat cross-legged on the floor with him. Daniel held my hand as we relaxed in the afternoon light and our baby girl kicked and punched and rolled in my womb. Overwhelming gratitude and perfect contentment rushed over me and my eyes filled with tears: THIS! I thought. This is my happiest memory. My precious little family, our love, the gifts of God filling our home and hearts. Does it get better than this?

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Comments

  1. says

    Although, I should add, perhaps, that seeing both your children grow up into fine adults and hearing their positive memories of childhood, is a “second best.”

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