When I got married for the second—and hoped the last—time, I made a solemn vow to my new wife, Eiko, that so long as I was alive I would never make her cry. No sooner had I made that promise, though, I broke it, for tears started falling from her eyes.

But, those were the good kind of tears. The happy ones. And throughout our ten-plus years of marriage, there have been many, many times when the intensity of our joy has evoked tears, tears which seem to fall easier and easier the older I get.

“Why are you sad, Daddy,” my third son asks.

“I’m not sad.”

“Then why are you crying?”

“I’m crying because I’m happy.”

“I don’t understand,” the five-year-old says as he sits down on my lap.

“Someday, you will. Trust me, you will.”