It was a great life.  I was 23. I had graduated high school, with a 3.6 GPA, and went to Arizona State in Tempe, far away from my home in New York.  I needed a break from the bright lights and the freezing cold. I couldn’t take it. After 18 years of the city lights, the drugs, the weed smell, and the cold, it was time to make a change. Things were different in Tempe.  It was never under 60 degrees, there were no bright lights, there wasn’t the lingering smell of weed, and no drugs.

I met this girl on a flight back home from Tempe to New York for Christmas.  I was a broke college student and I bought the cheapest plane ticket possible to take myself back home and surprise my family. She sat next to me on the plane ride and we found ourselves on the four and a half hour flight talking the whole time.  I could tell we were going to hit it off instantly. Soon I knew everything about her including what part of New York she was from, her favorite color, where she went to school, etc. I got her phone number and told her that I was going to be in New York for a couple weeks while my younger siblings had winter break away from their high school and middle school. She said she had a older sister and they were both flying home to visit their family in Manhattan, 15 minutes away from where I lived.  She went to UofA, which for people are not familiar with the Arizona universities, is the University of Arizona. Our schools were long time rivals in every sport, except hockey. That’s big here in NY, but non existent in Arizona. The time back home was really nice, but it really did remind me of exactly why I left. I sure do love my family, but then again, the weed smell still lingered, the lights flashed right through my window, and the weather was extra harsh and frigid.

During winter break, 2 days after Christmas, which also happens to be my birthday, I got a FaceTime call from her.  I didn’t know what it was about, but I answered anyways. She popped up on my screen, with her beautiful brown hair and hazel eyes coming through my phone.  We were across town from each other, but I felt like she was wrapped in my arms. We talked for an hour or so. She sang Happy Birthday and then we hung up the phone. I texted her later that night and asked her when she was flying back to AZ.  She was flying out the day after me. I wished for the chance to spend time with her, but my flight left tomorrow, and I had to get on it. I laid in my old twin bed in my cramped bedroom old. I looked out my window and even through the curtains, I could see all the bright lights.  I only really took notice of one in particular. She had brown hair, hazel eyes, and lived in Manhattan. And her light, shined brighter than every other in that city.

I flew back to school the next morning, and sat in a middle seat. The guy on my left was  flying back to Arizona to visit his family. The guy on my right was an old man, near 70 for sure, who said he was visiting his wife in a retirement home.  I thought of the flight I was on about a week ago and the girl I met. I couldn’t get her off my mind. I was back in Arizona after the four and a half hour flight and texted her as soon as I landed.  The next day I greeted her at the airport with a bouquet of flowers. I took her hand, we got in my car and I drove her back to her dorm. I pulled up to her dorm where she looked at me, and I looked at her, and as if it was a scene from a movie she leaned in and kissed me.  And, of course, I kissed her back. It was a moment I will never forget. A couple of weeks went by and over that time we became official. January 3rd would be our anniversary. We spent our first Valentine's Day together at a basketball game, Arizona vs Arizona State. Arizona State won so she had to buy the beer. We got out of our Uber at my place that night, giggling up a storm. We were still sober, but we had a buzz, not from the beer, but from of each other.  I couldn’t stop looking in her hazel eyes. We kissed goodnight and that was the single greatest Valentines Day of my life. Until the next Valentines Day,
I called my Mom, and then my Dad.  Shortly after I FaceTimed her Mom and Dad and I asked them if it would be okay if I asked them for her hand in marriage. Her parents were ecstatic.  They seemed to love me, knew I was a good man and said they approved of me marrying their daughter. So on Valentines Day, 13 months after we became a couple, we went to the beach, her favorite, and walked to the end of the pier.  II put my arm around her as we watched the waves crash onto the shore, I turned and looked at her beautiful brown hair, and of course, those hazel eyes, and I got down on one knee and I asked if she would be my wife. She said yes. A few short months later we had a beautiful wedding, in front of all of our family and friends. Now that was the single best day of my life.

After we became husband and wife things took a turn for the worse.  We originally couldn’t decide where we wanted to start our family, but we thought it would be best to plant our stakes in New York. I had gotten a job at MetLife as a salesman, which paid amazing and was a great gig. Until MetLife had to downsize and I was one of the first out the door due to my lack of experience.  The fact that I was new to the company made me expendable. Since she hadn’t nailed down a job quite yet, we were both jobless. I went to bed one night, with her by my side thinking we at least had each other. Until that morning, I woke up, and there wasn’t anyone in the bed with me. I went downstairs and their was a note on the counter of our apartment. I read it, and it immediately brought tears to my eyes. The last words of the note is all you need to know. “Thanks for everything.” Weeks went on.  I was devastated. Rent was due and I couldn’t pay it. Although I never thought I would have to, I borrowed rent money from my parents. That was rock bottom for me personally. I had been on the job hunt for weeks, but nothing turned up for me. Nothing was going right, I was depressed, and I was ready to give up. Life had smacked me hard in the face and I couldn’t get back up.

I had grabbed the pistol out of a drawer that I kept locked. “You always have to keep a gun in New York,” that’s what my Dad told me. “Never ever point it at yourself, nothing is that bad.” But it was that bad. I had loaded it with bullets.  I held it in my shaking hand. I was right there. But I couldn’t do it. My parents had always told me to never give up on anything and I couldn’t start now. I had a little money saved in a drawer that I only was going to use in case of an emergency.  This was an emergency. I called her and she answered her phone. I missed the sound of her voice so much. I asked her to meet up so we could talk things over. She said she would. We met in a little corner both at a diner outside of Manhattan. That is where my life changed forever.

We talked for hours upon hours, and figured everything out. She said she couldn’t deal with the mental stress and the anxiety of not nailing down a job, and not knowing what was next, but she didn’t want to give up on me. And I didn’t want to give up on her. We came up with a plan.  We were going to go back to where things were better, where things were happier and where things weren’t so cold. Yep. We were going to move back to Arizona with what little amount of money we had and do it together. So that’s what we did. I can’t thank my parents enough for supporting our decisions as they lent us the money for an apartment and a months rent. So we moved to where it all started.  

We got an apartment in Chandler, her and I.  I quickly landed a job at my old college as the assistant athletic director for the University. I was ecstatic.  Athletics was my passion, I loved my University, and the job paid significant money as well. It took her a little longer to find a job, but she ended up finding a job at the Talking Stick Resort Arena, in Phoenix, where the Suns play, as an Equipment Manager for the Suns.  As time went on and as we both started to make significant money, we decided to start raising a family. On May 29th, when we were both 28 years old, after all the hardship and times we spent together, we had our first child. A beautiful baby girl and we decided to give her the name that we had throughout the dark parts of life always knowing that their will be a light at the end of the tunnel. Hope. She was born 6 pounds 6 ounces and not a single ounce cuter. This was now the best day of my life. Time went on, and when Hope was 3 years old, we decide to have another child.  On June 21st, I was 31 and so was she, and we had a baby boy. Our son was named after the guy who lent me money, who raised me, who did everything for me, my Dad. Our son was Colton David. My Dad was ill but to be here for the birth of his namesake grandson was like a dream come true. Watching my dad, in his wheelchair, cry just about melted me. Yet another best day of my life.

More time went on.  I was promoted to head athletic director of Arizona State.  Hope turned 6, Colton turned 3, and soon enough, we had our 10th wedding anniversary. I looked into the eyes of my beautiful wife.  The same beautiful hazel eyes, brown hair, and amazing personality that could make me laugh or turn my day around in seconds. Then I looked at my 2 kids, Hope, the most beautiful little girl I have ever seen, awarded the best helper in her Kindergarten class, and in my opinion, the best basketball player on her rec team, the same hazel eyes and brown hair as her “Mommy”, and Colton, the biggest little Sun Devil fan ever known to man, with the same blue eyes and brown hair as me. I kissed my wife, as we celebrated 10 years of our marriage, and thought to myself, the kid from New York, who hated it their, desperate to escape from the bright lights of the city, to move on to something new, found just what he was looking for.  2 kids and an amazing wife. I didn’t need another best day of my life, because I already have more than what I needed. It can’t get any better than this. I promise.