It wasn’t the happiest moment in my life,
as those are as galileogirl already mentioned
generally unconnected to any event.
And I imagine that when I have a child,
that will supercede all the others.
But I did experience a kind of perfect moment.
I don’t really know how else to describe it.
We were on a camping trip with a bunch of friends. After setting up camp, we decided to hike down to the beach. We hadn’t a clue where we were going, depending entirely on one guy who insisted that we go this way no, this way.
When we finally heard the distant lapping of waves against the shore, the whole group kind of went crazy and started crashing through the brush. As we broke through and sunk down in the sand, it was beautiful. I grew up along the beach, but here there was no light pollution. There was just the infinite darkness of the ocean and the twinkling of stars above.
There was a flurry of shoes and socks. Then everyone made for the water. In the midst of all this jubilant chaos, I glanced down and noticed something amazing. I didn’t quite believe my eyes at first, but it appeared as if my footsteps were glowing.
I pranced around a few steps to see if I was just hallucinating. Sure enough, my footprints were glowing in my wake. A soft pulse of light. I started doing what must have appeared to have been a crazy man’s dance; stamping my feet, gesticulating wildly and shouting for everyone to look at my footprints.
It took a moment, but the comprehension washed across their faces with broad smiles and shrieks of delight. Everyone broke into a crazed primitive dance, stamping their feet in the wet sand. The shore lit up with our pulsing footprints.
Inevitably, someone began to sing Billy Jean. The whole group joined in and our voices rose and fell together, punctuated by this perfect kind of laughter. It was the kind of laughter that made you feel that all was right in the world.
And in that moment, it kind of was.