Top most memorable events in your life? Well, in third place was winning a roller skating race when you were seven. Scratched knees, but a happy smile in the photo that your parents kept. In second place was the day you found out that you enrolled in your dream college with a full scholarship. Then you screamed with joy and looked forward to your student life.

And the moment that comes first happened a couple of hours ago. The birth of your son.

You remember your modest wedding with Simon, how you slowly swayed on the wooden floor in the gazebo in the backyard of your house. Then his eyes shone with happiness, and an awkward but sincere smile didn't leave his lips.

All the money that wasn't spent on the celebration was spent on the honeymoon. Two weeks in a house by the sea, Italy. The incredible heat, from which the two of you escaped with air conditioners and sunscreen. Fresh seafood and the ripest fruits you've ever tasted. Simon's sparkling eyes when he stopped at the market square and watched as the local elderly men sat near the water and fished on small chairs.

Everything about that honeymoon was perfect. Even what came out of it.

You remember how you broke into your shared bedroom early in the morning, on his day off, and shouted in a whisper, "Are there two lines? You see two lines?" while poking a pregnancy test into his sleepy face. On your honeymoon, he was conceived, your son. The perfect gift for all subsequent holidays.

And so, many months later, he was born, screaming and rosy-cheeked, as if already dissatisfied with all the dangers that life had prepared for him. The doctor measured his height, his weight, wiped him of unnecessary fluid and wrapped him in a clean cloth. And then he was handed to Simon.

He stood there, lost, trying to put his hands in the right position so as not to hurt his newborn son. You saw how ironic it looked, a man with such a sturdy build, holding a small swaddled baby in his arms that barely fit into his forearm.

Family. You were a family now.

"Are those tears?"

"I'm not cryin', ya are." Simon replied automatically, sniffing slightly, still not taking his eyes off the newborn in his arms.

If it wasn't happiness, then what was?