The Finest Wine America Has Made

“I know that only by owning who and what you are can you start to step into the fullness of life," said Oprah Winfrey. "Every year should be teaching us all something valuable."

I turn 39 today. And I know I'm supposed to feel old, because it's the last year of my 30s.

But strangely I feel younger than ever, probably based on the work I'm doing, based on how authentic I've been allowing myself to be.

Born on March 30, 1978, I'm exactly 30 years younger than my father-in-law, Bob. My cousin's husband Lee shares my exact birthday and year. And I'm exactly 30 years older than my only niece, Savannah, who today turns 9. This is notable when you remember that I'm the only girl of five in my immediate family and Savannah is the only girl of five amongst her brother and cousins.

True highlight of my North Carolina trip: "I'm not really British!" #lifesavers2017 #charlotte #harrypotter #hermionegranger #youtubebritish #bacon

18 Likes, 1 Comments - Laura Carney (@lac78) on Instagram: "True highlight of my North Carolina trip: "I'm not really British!" #lifesavers2017 #charlotte..."

Savannah is everything I wish I'd been brave enough to be at her age. She is vivacious, not self-conscious and she says what she wants with little to no hesitation (click here to see her in full effect). She strikes this beautiful balance between tomboy and princess that I could never quite manage. When I saw her last, on Sunday in Charlotte, North Carolina, she said she wanted to walk through a revolving door next to where we were eating dinner. She said she'd never seen one up close before.

As she pushed the door around and around, she looked like that scene in Superman when Clark Kent has to save Lois, who's hanging from the top of a skyscraper (she's often in that predicament), and he can't find a phone booth, so he changes clothes in a fast-moving revolving door. I started humming a few bars from the Superman theme watching this, and I noticed Savannah's high-low dress resembled a cape. And then I noticed it had the Superman symbol printed all over it.

"Oh!" I said to her mom, my sister-in-law Sydney. "She's even wearing a Superman dress!"

"No," Sydney corrected me. "It's Supergirl."

Humming the Superman theme was something my dad would have done. Earlier that day, when Savannah was guessing what age I'd be on March 30, she said I'd be "21." I told her I'd be 39, and that for every birthday after this, I'd also be 39, that I'd never age again. This was a direct quote from my dad. He said he was 39 every year.

The next day, I attended one of the sessions at the annual Lifesavers Conference, the biggest conference on highway safety in the country, the whole reason I was in Charlotte in the first place, with my friend Joel Feldman. I told him about my visit with my family, how Savannah and I had an upcoming shared birthday. Then I reminded him that my father's birthday was April 6, the same as his daughter Casey's, something I'd considered a good omen when I agreed to work with End Distracted Driving, Joel's foundation. He started EndDD to honor Casey after she was killed by a distracted driver in 2009. She was 21 years old, the age Savannah had said I'd be turning.

Casey was born the day my dad turned 39 the first time. She would be 29 next week if a driver hadn't reached for his phone and iced tea at the same time and run a stop sign. Joel is on CBS Evening News with Scott Pelley tonight talking about it because in the last five years, pedestrian deaths have gone up 25% (click here to watch the interview).

When my dad was 29, the year I was born, the year he wrote the list, he took a business trip out to California. He was a liquor distributor at the time—though writing was his passion, sales was always his day job. He visited the Robert Mondavi vineyards in Napa Valley and picked up a Cabernet Sauvignon. The vintage was 1974.

When he brought it home to Delaware, he wrote on its label “The finest wine America has made." Then, at the top of the label, he wrote, "Open on Laura’s wedding day.”

My parents' divorce was finalized nine years later. I was the age Savannah's turning today. And because he'd moved out and could no longer keep an eye on it, my dad would jokingly ask me once in a while if my mom and stepdad had drunk the wine. Of course they hadn't. My mom dutifully kept it in a cold spot in the basement for 38 years, in three different basements. It survived moving three times.

One day last year, Steven and I were at my mom's new house in Connecticut, and I told her that the wedding would feel like a compromise no matter what, because my dad wouldn't be there. I was crying when I said it, and my mom said, "I have an idea," and went down to the basement. She came back up with my dad's bottle of wine.

Why don't we bring the bottle to the wedding, she suggested, and when it's time to make a toast, we can pour a little into each guest's glass? That way, even though my dad wouldn’t be there, we could fulfill his plan.

The idea sparked a running debate in my family over whether the wine was still drinkable after all these years. My mom said it might not be the kind that ages well, and I started picturing all my wedding guests writhing on the floor and choking.

But then I did some research. I looked up the Robert Mondavi vintages from the 1970s and learned that in 1976, a group of esteemed French wine judges blind-taste-tested California wines along with the best wines from Bordeaux and Burgundy (long considered the finest in the world). That year, for the first time ever, the California wines won.

Both winning wines were from the 1973 vintage, and the next year’s vintage was said to be even finer. The taste test changed the reputation of California vineyards overnight.

It also made what my father had claimed very likely true. The Robert Mondavi 1974 California Cabernet probably was “the finest wine America had made."

Since we chose New Mexico as our venue, transporting the wine was easier said than done. Two weeks out, we drove up to my mom's house to gather our decorations and mail them to Santa Fe and somehow managed to forget one important item: the wine. A few days later, Steven drove two hours back up to my mom’s house and gently carted it back to our apartment like it was a baby. I stored it in our bedroom closet in the dark for the rest of the week, and then I wrapped it in bubble wrap when I put it in my suitcase.

When we reached Santa Fe, I opened my luggage, and the bottle's label was sticky and red. The pressure on the plane had burst open the cork, causing some of the wine to leak out onto my clothes. All that time, all that gentle care, and now here I was ruining it in one fell swoop. The entire wedding weekend, it was hard for me to get my mind off that bottle.

sad about my dad not being there, not about the burst bottle (photo by Joni Bilderback)

After our ceremony, we gathered everyone in our bed and breakfast’s small living room and told them the story of what we were about to toast with. I said I hoped I wouldn't be causing a second Jonestown Massacre.

Talia and Savannah, who I hope didn't have any (photo by Joni Bilderback)

Steven removed the cork (or at least what was left of it), took one sip and then pretended to keel over. And then I took a sip, too.

It was the best wine I’d ever tasted.

Soon our guests were gathering around us, saying, “I want some!” It felt like the last scene in It's a Wonderful Life. Here I'd been so worried everyone would be humoring me by drinking this stuff or that it would turn their stomachs inside out, but they all actively wanted it, this beautiful bottle my dad, mom and stepdad had so lovingly preserved. And it turned out to be stunning, even more stunning after all that time. I later found out that around 38 years is the best length of time to wait to drink it.

Papa John, Steven's mom, my mom and Uncle David (photo by Joni Bilderback)

The second-to-last item on my father's list, item 59, says "Sing at my daughter's wedding." This one was heartbreaking to discover that day in my brother's kitchen, when I read the list the first time. But as far as I'm concerned, we checked that item off for him on May 29, 2016. Because even though he wasn't there to sing in person, our bellies were all singing just the same.

And as I turn 39 today, I'm happy I'm not turning 21. Because when I was 21, I was too self-conscious to run through a revolving door like Superman. And that's just what I feel like doing.

“I know that only by owning who and what you are can you start to step into the fullness of life," said Oprah Winfrey. "Every year should be teaching us all something valuable."