The most wonderful day of the year!

April 26 is always a special day in my family.

For me, it's the luckiest, most special day of my life: the day, back in 1975, that I was adopted.

Well, maybe not technically adopted - I don't know the legalese. Suffice it to say it's the day they went to the orphanage and got me.

Today isn't a very happy occasion for them - they're on their way to a funeral for one of Mom's relatives (who made it to a hearty 90, God bless him!) - but they still took the time to send me an e-mail to tell me all sorts of nice things.

And that should tell you that it's me, not them, who is the truly fortunate one. Because I may have brought joy into their lives, but what they have given me goes beyond happiness, or pride, or any emotion that a son can strive to give his parents. They have given me EVERYTHING.

I came to America with nothing. Some paperwork and some kind of gastrointestinal virus. That's it. A generic name, a questionable birthdate.

31 years later, I have just about everything a guy could want, material, financial, emotional, psychological.

(And anything I'm lacking - such as a girlfriend, or perhaps psychological stability - is certainly not their fault.)

They remain, to this day, generous of their time, their love, their material possessions, their strength, their knowledge.

Were they perfect parents during my upbringing? Of course not, who is? But for my money, they're as close as people can get. And any sin, whether of omission or commission, was made with the best intentions, never the worst. Hindsight is 20/20, and with each passing day/week/month/year, I see more and more good in what they did, even if I didn't see it or appreciate it as much as I should have at the time.

And now that I can (usually) stand on my own two feet, they really are just about perfect. In this day and age, when so much about children is overanalyzed and overthought, they did it simply, and did it right. I'm an adult, I have a busy life, but we take the time to talk regularly, by phone or e-mail, and when we get together, I'm always happy to see them, and they to see me.

I am truly lucky. Or blessed, depending on what you believe. Or both.

Even more so, because I have an anniversary every year to be reminded of just how lucky (or blessed) I am.

It keeps things in perspective. It defines love for me. It gives me an example to strive for, and a feeling of safety I can rely on.

I always say all that I am, I owe to them, and all that I am not, is none of their fault. That's the truth.

I am often reminded I have a good life. Today, more than usual.