Day of Our Life

 " What do you remember as the best day of your life? " Typical answers are wedding day, birth of a child, moving into a new home, or even winning a lottery. Those are certainly memorable days, but what day in your entire life did you actually feel better than ever before, or since?
    I think the best day in  a person's life might seem unimportant at the time, as just another day until you look back on it. Every once in a while, I think back upon a day that might possibly have been the happiest day in our lives, speaking as a family.
 The time was Halloween night. The year was probably 1973. Dave and I and were trick or treating with our 2 young kids. We would have already stopped at Nana's house to show her and Helen and the girls the costumes, and had set out to cover the village, stopping at the Community Hall where the kids won costume prizes.But the best was yet to come.
   It was a perfect Halloween night. The weather was pleasant, with a warm breeze. We could see the dark early evening clouds looming above us, setting an eerie scene, especially if you're under the age of 7 or so.
    I waited on the sidewalk while Dave went to the house on the corner, which used to be McMahon's, with Marilyn and David who were collecting candy.There was a porch with several steps, and as they left the house, Dave picked up David, who was dressed as Batman, as was his choice at 3 years old. Dave held him in his arms, up over his head, and raced down the steps and continued on down the sidewalk and circled around and around the front yard out to the roadside. Dave was running  at top speed, and there was enough wind to cause Batman's cape, the cape Dorothy had made for him, to flow out against the wind, and the moonlight cast shadows through the darkness.
     After he was set back on the ground,  David said to me,  in all his childhood earnestness, then and in days later, that he really was flying that Halloween night, when Daddy held him up against the sky. I could only agree with him.
   I just came across a yellowed clipping of a poem that I had saved because of that memory. The scenario depicted was yet to unfold.  The poem was written by Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate from 2004-2006.
                                     SPINNING
I hold my two-year old son
under his arms and start to twirl.
His feet sway away from me
and the day becomes a blur.
Everything I own is flying into space:
yard toys, sandbox, tools,
garage and house,
and, finally, the years of my life.
When we stop, my son is a grown man,
and I am very old. We stagger
back into each other's arms
one last time, two lost friends
remembering the good old days.