People will often ask you “What’s been the best day of your life?” and most times a wedding day, a child’s birth, a lottery win (yes, please!) or some other major moment will get chosen. I find myself considering all of those choices when I am asked as well. Then I start thinking about all the other days that had wonderful things in them and somehow get diminished by the asking of that question. When I started thinking about my best day (in response to Mommyx4boys’ challenge) I realized that if I classify some day as “best” it stands to reason that there will also be days that are “worst” and I’m not sure I really like that idea. The “best” versus “worst” ratio could end up being quite depressing (maybe a lot more than “quite”) so I have my own way of looking at things in an effort to keep myself a pleasant human being.
Sure, it’s easy to list the “big” days as best: the day I met the man who was to become my husband, the day we finally got married (7 years later), the day we bought our first house, the day Big Boy was born, the day Little Man was born, the day my step-son got engaged, the list goes on and on. Then I start thinking about days that are maybe not “worst” but definitely “less-than-best” and I realize that even on truly crappy days there is almost always something that you can find to be thankful for and able to celebrate a little once you get some perspective.
The day my grandfather died, crappy day for everyone but he had family that loved him and gathered around his death bed to reminisce, pray, say goodbye and even laugh a little (it was one of the first times in years that the whole family had been in the same room, big drama, not my story).
The day that began with a screaming baby at 4:00am, by the time he settled back down everyone else was up and I was needed so couldn’t go back to sleep myself. I was able to witness the light changing from night to the beginnings of day and the colours, scent and sounds are still etched into my memory as one of the most glorious things I’ve ever seen.
The other day (what, you thought there would only be one?) when I was woken up far too early but looked out my bedroom window and saw a mama deer bring her baby into my yard to play.
The day that Big Boy had a mysterious tummy ailment that would wake him crying and vomiting in the night, keep him from eating and generally feeling crappy turned out to be constipation and was solved by nothing more than fruit, water and a huge poop!
The day that the boys just wouldn’t leave me alone, I couldn’t get the kitchen tidied without children underfoot, couldn’t sneak a glass of wine without prying eyes wondering what I was up to, couldn’t fold laundry without small bodies climbing into the laundry basket, couldn’t pee without an audience! That night I got home from rehearsal to clean, sleeping children (Thanks GranNan!) and was able to enjoy an entire hour of peace and quiet (and wine!) before someone started needing me again.
The day that has nothing more memorable in it than a random stranger throwing you a smile at the grocery store, or holding a door when your arms are full, when your husband gives you that special smile that is so rare, when your friend unexpectedly shows up with Tim Horton’s in hand, when your children throw their arms around you and say, “Mommy, I love you”.
Every day is a “best” day if you can find the good amid the bad, the extraordinary amongst the mundane, the treasures hidden in the piles of junk that seem to take over the living room.