Perfect Moments

In one of the books my mom read for a class (and which I read so I'd know what she's talking about in the paper I get to edit for her), the main character explains these "perfect moments" he has—moments when you know life just can't get any better. When I was at Mom's house for dinner Sunday night, we started talking about our own perfect moments, and I've been thinking about mine ever since. So here's a list of just a few of the perfect moments I've experienced:

Watching the sun set over the ocean on the last day of my first trip to Hawaii.

Every Christmas Eve I can remember—skiing, dinner at Arby's, lighting candles at the cemetery, and turning all the lights off in the house except the Christmas lights and gathering around the tree to read the Christmas story.

The last day of my trip with my mom to Europe (well, actually the whole vacation, but it all culminated that last night when I was staring out my hotel window at the River Liffey).

The morning in the hospital when I became an aunt.

Disneyland. It doesn't matter when; Disneyland's always perfect.

The night I was in the Conference Center when President Hinckley gave his "Six B's" talk.

My visit to the Sacred Grove.

U2 shows, all U2 shows, especially when all the lights come on at the beginning of "Streets."

One night when I was visiting Arches and we pulled off the road and got out of the car just to stare at the stars.

Spaghetti dinner at my mom's house, especially when the whole family is there and we all just sit at the table talking for a few hours after we're done eating.

And the list goes on and on. What really amazes me is how these moments just keep happening. The tricky part is recognizing them when they do.