I’ve been following Sean Dietrich for several years now. His writings, stories, and music have meant a lot to me. I can usually turn to him when I need to be cheered up. If you’re not a follower, I strongly recommend you look him up.

A year or so ago, during a particularly trying time in my life, he wrote a story so meaningful I printed it on resume paper and framed it. Link: https://seandietrich.com/youre-gonna-be-okay/

This morning, he posted another powerful piece with a question that hit me right in the soul:

How would you spend your best day ever?

Here is my response.

The Best Day I Can Imagine

I used to think the best day ever would involve food. A biscuit, maybe. Or a slice of pepperoni pizza so hot it burns the roof of your mouth. I used to dream in flavors—salt, fat, sugar. But cancer took that from me. Took my taste buds. Took my ability to eat. Now, nourishment comes through a tube. And I’ve made peace with that, mostly.

But if I could choose my best day ever, it wouldn’t be about food. It would be about freedom.

Tomorrow, I return to Emory for the 42nd time in five years and three months. I’ll sit in a waiting room that feels like a second home. I’ll hear the hum of machines, the shuffle of nurses, the quiet prayers of other patients. And maybe—just maybe—I’ll hear the words: “You’re cancer free.”

Not “no evidence of disease.” Not “stable.” But free.

I finished radiation on October 23, 2020. Five years is the milestone. I’m close. So close I can taste it—if I could taste anything.

But even if tomorrow doesn’t bring that declaration, my best day ever is still possible. It’s a day with my wife and two daughters. Just the four of us. No anxiety. No financial stress. No medical appointments. No what-ifs.

We’d be together. Laughing. Maybe watching a movie. Maybe walking in the fall air. Maybe just sitting on the porch, listening to the wind. I wouldn’t be worried about bills or scans or tubes or timelines. I’d just be Dad. Husband. Matt.

And I’d feel peace. Not the kind you fake for others. The kind that settles deep in your bones. The kind that whispers, “You made it.”

That’s my best day ever.