Have you ever had a moment so perfect your memory holds on to it for dear life? Those moments are reflected in TV shows and movies as some kind of flashback to a happy moment. It’s typically illustrated on old VHS or Super 8, or even the primitive digital cameras that would allow you to record a movie. You can visualize the scene. Maybe, for you, it’s your wedding day and one of your guests catches you and your new spouse in some goofy but amazing moment of glee. Or it’s looking back at your child’s first steps and the smile that is painted on their face as they recognize they’ve leveled up. For me, it was April 28, 2008, at the Four Seasons on Maui. Even typing these words, here, make me tear up…again.
Just a few weeks ago, my wife and I celebrated our 25th wedding anniversary. In those 25 years, we have lived in 4 different addresses, had two children, had about 12 different jobs if you count me temping during the recession of the early 2000s, have had a couple health issues, and have seen many ups and downs in our relationship. Some of you have been around for the bad. Most of you have been around for the good.
Our son was born in June of 2001. About 3 months before he was born, the start-up company I worked for ran out of money. Things were hard in Silicon Valley in those days. I lost my job and with it, health insurance for the “pre-existing” condition known as pregnancy. Our daughter was born via C-section and the doctor told us our son would be too. Without health insurance, it would definitely be expensive, but if something went wrong, it could have been catastrophic. Luckily, our synagogue put us on their group health plan, and the night before he was born, we were finally able to relax. He was a healthy baby upon delivery.
I was working at a “dot-com” (in 1998) and things were moving very fast, when our daughter was born. Seemingly prioritizing work, I made the mistake of not staying home long enough after the delivery to nurse my wife back to strength and help at home with the infant. After our second, seeing how I was unemployed, I vowed to begin looking for work in August, which I did. Unfortunately, by that date, very few companies were hiring in my area. We lost our house. A few months after that, had I been diagnosed, I likely would have been labeled clinically depressed.
In July of 2002, I switched careers. You know that thing I have an MBA to do? Those skills I amassed during the years of working? I tossed it all to the side and began again in a new field, a new industry, a new company, and had a very uncertain future because it was a “do-it-yourself” kind of gig. Sink or swim. My hiring manager said “This job is easy. Just do what I tell you to do. If you don’t, you’re going to starve.” My ears still heard the ringing of the toddler’s wails and the hungry cries of an infant. I was not going to starve. I set out to work. It’s nearly 19 years later and I’m still at that same job in that same company in that same office and I’d say by most definitions, it’s worked out fairly well.
I worked tirelessly and relentlessly in those early years. I had to make up for what we lost. And in 2008, using a discount I was able to obtain through a corporate rate, I took my family to Maui. It was to be a first class vacation as we hadn’t had any real break since the kids had been born. We first stayed at the Grand Wailea Hotel, hearing that the pools there were some of the best in the world and the kids would enjoy them. I had heard correctly. Then after a few days, we switched to the Four Seasons hotel (literally next door), and had an entirely different kind of experience.
And this brings me back to that perfect moment. Something like this is impossible to plan, forecast, or predict. It just happens. And if you’re lucky enough to spot it while it’s happening, it’s heaven. At this hotel, they have an outside restaurant called Ferarro’s. My wife arranged it so that we would sit for dinner about 30 minutes before the sun was to set. We sat facing the west. It was a perfect evening. The sky had beautiful clouds that look like they were painted by O’Keefe. The weather was such that you could not even feel the temperature; it was neither cold nor warm. The kids were dressed in their fanciest clothes, as were their parents. And it turns out, the food was beyond delicious. It was extraordinary.
Placed behind my table and separated by about 20 feet were two musicians playing a classical guitar and a violin. Instruments only, no singing. Their names were Vance Koenig and Don Lax. Vance played the guitar and I believe he was the “band leader,” such as they were. They added to the ambiance so perfectly that it’s hard to think of that place without their sounds. As the sun was setting, the kids had their food in front of them and were happily chatting with each other, my wife and I sipped on our wine, and we held hands. That’s when Vance and Don started playing the most beautiful instrumental version of U2’s “One” I have ever heard, before or since. I started crying.
Jordan, our daughter, noticed it first. She looked up and asked, “Daddy, why are you crying?” At this, Bennett notices too and my wife squeezes my hand harder. Perhaps she understood it as well. I simply responded, “Because this is a perfect moment,” I said through a happy, but very audible sob. Both kids got up and hugged me. They were 9 and 6 at the time. Jordan is now 22, living in Boston about to graduate college. Bennett is 19 in St. Louis and a sophomore.
To celebrate our 25th, my wife suggested we return to the Four Seasons on Maui. I quickly said yes. We will be going in a week and a half from now, almost exactly 13 years after this “perfect moment.” That moment I see with absolute clarity and emotion I still feel is not likely to repeat itself. But she informed me that once again, we have a reservation at Ferarro’s at about 30 minutes to sunset. The two musicians won’t be there this time, but perhaps, just perhaps, we will create a new indelible memory, just for ourselves.
Happy Spring everyone.
PS: I wanted to get away from politics, if only for a few moments.