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Masterpiece Day of Masterpiece Days
When my son was seven, he and I hiked to the summit of Yosemite Falls where we triumphantly enjoyed day-old pizza, warm soda and a heavenly view of the magnificent valley below. As I tucked him into bed that night, the tired little Mountain Boy said, “Daddy, this was the best day of my life.”
It was a masterpiece day, to be certain, but I have always felt there is no “best” day, no single day that is the ultimate masterpiece above all others. Rather, the very best days are different hues in a rainbow.
That day on the mountain was a beautiful hue of sky blue.
September 4th, three Sundays past, the glorious yellow of a field of sunflowers was added to my life’s rainbow. More accurately, of a church aisle decorated with sunflowers and a matching bridal bouquet.
I had not planned to do a follow-up column on my daughter’s wedding after having written about it the day before vows were exchanged. But so many people have requested one that, to borrow the signature phrase from the late radio broadcaster Paul Harvey, here is “the rest of the story.”
A friend, who had already walked a church aisle in my wedding wingtips, told me it would be one of the top five days of my life. By evening’s end, I realized he had understated matters. Indeed, contrary to my earlier proclamation, I dare say it was the best day of my life.
I say this without diminishing my other all-time favorite days, the gorgeous reds and blues and golds in my life’s rainbow. I say this because this single masterpiece day had me reliving many, many masterpiece days.
For example, walking my 29-year-old daughter down the aisle, her hand in my arm, brought to mind walking her to the first day of kindergarten; our hand-in-hand evening walks around the neighborhood when she was young; our own hikes in Yosemite when she was a little older.
Seeing her holding the bridal bouquet of sunflowers, which have always been her favorite, had me reliving her 16th birthday when I surprised her at school with a bouquet of 16 sunflowers.
It was not only hues relating to my daughter that enveloped me. That “best” day climbing Yosemite Falls also resurfaced as the Mountain Boy, now 26, stood tall at the alter beside his big sister as her Man of Honor. The masterpiece day when he delivered the commencement speech at his college graduation flashed to memory as he charismatically gave a heartfelt toast to the bride and groom.
All weddings remind me of my own, but this one did so far more than all others because it was on my wife’s and my anniversary date. Too, the two brides – 34 years past, and present – share the same beauty and radiance.
On and on, my life’s rainbow hues shined everywhere on this masterpiece of masterpiece days.
As I walked my daughter down the aisle, not only did countless images of her – from the day she was born, through her youth, now into young womanhood – flip through my mind’s photo album, but the emotions of each page resurfaced as well. My eyes, like my heart, overflowed as this collage of moments made this the best moment of all.
And then came our father-daughter dance, 3 minutes and 50 seconds of just she and I alone on the dance floor as Tim McGraw’s “My Little Girl” played, and somehow this was an even greater moment still.
A number of people asked me afterward what my little girl and I were talking about, crying about, laughing about intimately out there on the dance floor, and my answer was this: “Everything.”
I will share one specific thing Dallas whispered to me a little earlier, in the church as I escorted her down the aisle to her new husband, because I think there is something universal in the personal: “Daddy, of all the walks we have taken, this one is my favorite.”
Mine, too, Dally. It was a walk on a rainbow.
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Woody Woodburn writes a weekly column for The Ventura County Star and can be contacted at WoodyWriter@gmail.com.
Check out my new memoir WOODEN & ME: Life Lessons from My Two-Decade Friendship with the Legendary Coach and Humanitarian to Help “Make Each Day Your Masterpiece”
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