tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25661044.post2587138866175226808..comments2007-10-19T16:13:02.221-07:00Zookeeperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03529189710882928154noreply@blogger.comBlogger6125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25661044.post-60907275833276520672007-10-19T15:49:00.000-07:002007-10-19T15:49:00.000-07:00Well said darling. Well said.Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08527762200993175239noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25661044.post-73511465797584625352007-10-12T19:33:00.000-07:002007-10-12T19:33:00.000-07:00Great answer!This was probably one of the hardest questions I've ever had to answer. Too many "what if's."slackermommyhttp://redirect.alexa.com/redirect?www.slacker-moms-r-us.comnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25661044.post-10350921254322124122007-10-12T13:36:00.000-07:002007-10-12T13:36:00.000-07:00I agree with the best moment evolving thing. And what a description of when you first met your husband! I could actually hear those angels singing!!Zookeeperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03529189710882928154noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25661044.post-72827439146103578632007-10-12T13:23:00.000-07:002007-10-12T13:23:00.000-07:00I'm with you. I don't want to know. <BR/><BR/>But being the anal retentive devil's advocate that I am, I would answer the question with a question: WHO DECIDES what the best moment really is? Isn't everyone's definition different?<BR/><BR/>If I had to choose now what the best moment of my life has been, it would be different than what I would have chosen as the best moment at, say, 17, or what I will choose when I'm 45. My best moment may evolve with my own life experience and maturity.<BR/><BR/>But if I had to pick one right this moment where I KNEW I was watching history (for me) unfold before my eyes? It would be when I went to Kentucky to spend my first weekend with my future husband, with whom I'd only talked on the phone. January 26th, 1996. When I stepped off the plane and into the gate area, my eyes zeroed on him, casually reclined in the closest chair he could get to the gate where we de-planed, his chin resting in his hands. He perked up, looked over at me, and smiled.<BR/><BR/>Angels sang, my heart skipped a few beats, deciding if I was happy enough to die right then and there, deciding that I probably would at least like to tell him hello before dying, and so it resumed beating. <BR/><BR/>That moment isn't even eclipsed by hearing him say, "I do," nearly 6 years later. It is only matched by the moment our son was born, when we heard the cry and we looked at each other, into those same eyes I saw when I got off that plane, the depths of which are deep and soul-stirring, and smiled through our tears of joy.Andreahttp://littlebalddoctors.wordpress.comnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25661044.post-35455105593693069712007-10-12T06:07:00.000-07:002007-10-12T06:07:00.000-07:00Makes perfect sense to me.bigapenoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25661044.post-58827864505079552502007-10-12T06:05:00.000-07:002007-10-12T06:05:00.000-07:00I was about to say "yes" and then your last sentence changed my mind. I"d probably totally roll over and go back to sleep every morning because, hey, what is there to look forward to? Good point.<BR/><BR/>Hope things are well at "the zoo!"Ronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07304913697578294098noreply@blogger.com