OK - it wasn't so much an assignment as it was a fulfillment of an answer to a question asked during our first session of Wills & Estates (sure to become my favorite class this semester, thanks to Judge Lee). he asked the class how many of us had a will - out of 70+ students, 4 raised their hands (including me). in the interest of full disclosure, i am obligated to admit that i don't have a *valid* legal will, but i do have the skeleton form on my laptop and i now have an excellent reason to validate the will's provisions and get it safely stored away. in any case, having done some research into the matter, i discovered a neat part of a will, the name of which will surely strike a reflexive, albeit retroactive, dread into the hearts of any of this blog's followers that went through the travails of law school applications: the personal statement. yes, that's right - today's modern will contains an option to include some last words which must be included in the reading of one's will. who says you can't get the last word? the addition of a personal statement to a will gives one the opportunity truly to get the drop on all those pesky relatives who never let anyone skate by without some pithy commentary or cautionary axiom floating on the breeze as its target drives away. that said, here is the text of my personal statement as it stands now, though i'm sure as i get older, more crotchety, and less in control of my mental faculties (though it's difficult to see how i could lose any more control over those), it will change somewhat. even so, the message will win through - imbibe each word, friends, as they are all for you.
******
As Freud once famously said, '[E]veryone of us is convinced of his own immortality.' Considering this was a man with more neural pathways under construction at any given moment than your average Amoeba Mathletes team, in this he was completely correct, and yet I couldn't agree less. In my humble opinion, I think it's even more important to be not only convinced, but absolutely and utterly aware - at every moment - of one's mortality. Otherwise, we lose sight of our motivation to get things right while we can, and where we fall short, to make amends as best we are able. Living as though you are immortal takes no special drive, no remarkable talent even. The trick is to keep your mortality always at the periphery of your awareness, so that when the Fates hold your life's thread taut and start sharpening their scissors, you can observe all this with the contentment of one whose immortality awaits only the germination of seeds planted in stories passed down through generations: evolving from dry, even antiseptic, recountings into evermore colorfully embellished family folklore, from folklore into the stuff of legend.
If, when I leave this world, I can say that death is truly the only thing I have left to experience, the only bridge I have yet to cross, the only stone I have yet to turn over, the last empty box on my checklist....well, then immortality becomes a significantly less significant achievement, doesn't it? Who wants to live forever if you can never really complete the race, cross off that last to-do? It's said that Mozart never overslept when he had important meetings, because his wife Kostanze discovered a foolproof alarm, guaranteed to rouse the great Amadeus from his bed without exception: she would go to the piano and play the first seven notes of a C major scale, but she would omit the C at the top, leaving the penultimate tone hanging in the air while she walked away from the instrument, and forcing her husband to leap from the bed within mere seconds to play the entire scale with the final tonic note at the end, right where it should be. He simply *could not* leave it alone. To me, it seems that actual immortality would be like hearing that same unfinished scale over and over again - the agony of never being able to play that final note and have the satisfaction of resolution and accomplishment would defeat me.
For my part, I choose not to recollect the failures in my life, which are legion, but in this moment - which, in my mind's eye, is full of people celebrating according to my instructions rather than weeping or mourning - I would like to catalog what I believe are (or I hope they will be, at the moment of this document's reading) my greatest achievements. My one great hope is that when this document is read out loud, the following statements will have been borne out in truth:
- that I lived deep and sucked out all the marrow of life (credit to Thoreau for this, a lasting image captured in my mind so many years ago), with the understanding that there is no time for 'what if.'
- that I was known as a compassionate person, one who could be counted on in a pinch to answer 'Yes!' to all those who needed my help, regardless of whether I was asked.
- that those dear to me knew every moment of every day how much I loved them and how much of my own strength I drew from them and their love for me.
- that I never met a stranger.
- that I always stood ready with a smile and kind word, even in my own darkest moments, because it really is possible to 'fake it till you make it.'
- that my sister, Sandy, lived each day secure in the knowledge that never in this world has anyone ever been blessed as I was with the sister of the ages, a staunch defender, one whose shoulder never grew weary of absorbing my tears, a firm ally in both famine and plenty, and one who always joyfully proclaimed that she shared my blood.
- that Trinity, Micayla, and Jaden were as proud to be my nieces as I was, every moment, to be their aunt, and that I was always there for them when they needed me, bound inexorably together by love stronger even than steel.
- that I will be remembered as a cheerful giver, someone with an astounding capacity for remembering even the smallest details, but with complete amnesia for the faults of others or wrongs done to me.
- that my life, despite my mistakes, misgivings, and mishaps, truly reflected God's love and kindness, someone of whom all my family and friends would never be ashamed to claim as their own and who made them proud.
Dear ones, I love you. For those gone ahead, I rejoice in anticipation of our reunion, and for those left behind (it's only for a short while!), I implore you not to cry for my passing, but to remember me each time you speak without thinking, act without hesitation, and love without expectation of recompense. 'And now abide faith, hope, and love, these three; but the *greatest of these* is LOVE.'
Monday, January 17, 2011
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
new year's introspection
hello again friends - it's a new year and with the dawning of 2011, i (like so many others out there) find myself unusually pensive, spending time dreaming about things that never seem quite as possible in november or december, but at the stroke of midnight on New Year's Day, all the world suddenly reclaims its place as my oyster.
that said, here are a few tidbits about 2010, in no particular order.
1. Visited Seattle (again) for a conference, during which I was able to soak in the magic of the Emerald City and meet up with good friends for crumpets, tea, and green tea martinis (not in the same meal, of course). More and more, I feel as though we will eventually live there, even if it's only for a short time.
2. 'Snowpocalypse' - my flight left Baltimore for Seattle in the morning, and by rush hour, there was 4 inches of snow on the ground, ultimately accumulating 18" at our house that weekend. My flight home was delayed a day and my flight home finally landed at BWI as one of the last six planes to land during the 21 hours the airport was able to open before Round 2 hit, bringing another 16" of snow (for a total of 32" on the ground by the time it all cleared).
3. Butler University came within literally *inches* of pulling off one of the greatest Cinderella story upsets in the entire history of the NCAA basketball tournament, losing to #1 (actually #3 overall) Duke in the title game, after Gordon Hayward's Hail Mary kissed the back of the rim after banking off the glass, just barely too far to hit the net instead. An amazing game that kept the entire March Madness faithful glued to the screen as the final buzzer sounded, and one of the few times that my mom's rooting for the team opposite the one I was supporting failed to clinch a victory.
4. The Young Squire (aka Rowan Davies) enters the world (1/4) and inserts himself into our hearts within mere seconds - and so, the great adventure begins for dear friends.
5. My niece Trinity turned 10, finally cracking into the double digits and somehow retaining the sweetness and light of childhood, all the while staring her 'tween years in the face. Under the 10-going-on-27 exterior, however, she's still my Boots.
6. My sister and nieces moved home to TN, with bittersweet overtones aplenty.
7. I traveled to Central America and had weight-loss surgery, reclaiming my body for myself and learning that I'm liable to break into Spanish when under the influence of heavy anesthesia. Pounds lost to date: 86. Clothes reclaimed from the back of the closet: 4 shirts, two pairs of pants, and one tuxedo jacket.
8. Got a Facebook message from a private investigator who said my dad was trying to find me and my sister. After much virtual hemming and hawing, the three of us sat down and had coffee, double-chocolate Coca-Cola cake, and 2 hours of conversation at Cracker Barrel, where in true Southern form, our check was comped by the manager when she heard our story.
9. My hometown was flooded when the Cumberland River crawled over its banks, encroaching nearly half a mile into downtown Nashville, submerging Riverfront Park, and causing irreparable damage to thousands of homes, businesses, and cultural rally points such as Schermerhorn Symphony Center and the Grand Ole Opry's Acuff Theater. Later, Lighthouse Christian School - a school funded by the operation of its preschool, and which served as the subject of one of the most incredible YouTube videos I have ever seen, when a portable classroom literally floated down the interstate and was crushed in the water - received a truly amazing gift from Extreme Makeover: Home Edition. In the face of overwhelming loss to their property and ability to operate the preschool (the lifeblood of the rest of the school), LCS set up a community shelter where displaced Nashvillians could come to receive food, blankets, necessaries, and help in rebuilding. All the while, LCS was suffering, but the indomitable heart for the people - one of the many reasons I am *so* proud to call Nashville my hometown - would not let them stand by while the rest of their community suffered so great a tragedy. When Ty Pennington and his crew came on the scene, the principal of LCS stared as though an angel had descended on the school, which of course is exactly what happened. (In the midst of the flood crisis, Nashville received little to non-existent national media coverage, and so I sent an email to Rachel Maddow, beseeching her to give us just a little exposure on her show if it was at all possible. Dr. Maddow responded less than 2 days later - not via email, but via a 4-minute segment on her nightly show, detailing the damage and giving Nashville the airtime it so deserved.)
10. My wife's family lost its matriarch when Elizabeth B. Stefon passed away November 20th. Aunt Betty left no heart unturned, and had an impact on us all. Though it hurts to think of her apartment being rented by someone else, leaving us only a few tenuous threads of connections in the great state of Connecticut, it is easy to imagine Betty reunited with her siblings, parents and all those others who went before her, crippled no more, and able to relax in the knowledge that she made it after all. RIP Aunt Betty - you will be missed.
Overall, 2010 was a year of change: new Congress, new body for me, new location for my sister and nieces, 2 cousins who left for their first years in college, a new baby, weight-loss surgery, the '2L' year, and countless other events that haven't been mentioned here. The 'twenty-ought' decade (quoted from my former Economics teacher, Mr. Adams) came to a close and Susanne and I celebrated with great friends. We enter the 'twenty-teens' decade (again, credit to Mr. Adams) with a hopeful sense of wonder, humility, and excitement at the dawning of a new census period, wherein our dearest hope is that we will be able to add to that census number in our own good time.
Friends, family, strangers who may have simply stumbled on this page - you are so dear to those around you. When you consider 2010 and what you left undone, unsaid, or unwritten, I urge you not to regret but to consider those things a built-in, ready-made goals list for 2011 - as I learned over Christmas, 'for every regrettable, there's a hypothetical.' Don't make your what-ifs into 'woulda, shoulda, coulda.' Change those what-ifs into 'when-I.' Try to live your life so that you don't regret what you've done, but what you've left undone - the best way to accomplish this is not to leave doors unopened or 'I love you's' unsaid, or emotional beds unmade. It's 2011, and I officially declare this the year of CARPE DIEM!!!!
that said, here are a few tidbits about 2010, in no particular order.
1. Visited Seattle (again) for a conference, during which I was able to soak in the magic of the Emerald City and meet up with good friends for crumpets, tea, and green tea martinis (not in the same meal, of course). More and more, I feel as though we will eventually live there, even if it's only for a short time.
2. 'Snowpocalypse' - my flight left Baltimore for Seattle in the morning, and by rush hour, there was 4 inches of snow on the ground, ultimately accumulating 18" at our house that weekend. My flight home was delayed a day and my flight home finally landed at BWI as one of the last six planes to land during the 21 hours the airport was able to open before Round 2 hit, bringing another 16" of snow (for a total of 32" on the ground by the time it all cleared).
3. Butler University came within literally *inches* of pulling off one of the greatest Cinderella story upsets in the entire history of the NCAA basketball tournament, losing to #1 (actually #3 overall) Duke in the title game, after Gordon Hayward's Hail Mary kissed the back of the rim after banking off the glass, just barely too far to hit the net instead. An amazing game that kept the entire March Madness faithful glued to the screen as the final buzzer sounded, and one of the few times that my mom's rooting for the team opposite the one I was supporting failed to clinch a victory.
4. The Young Squire (aka Rowan Davies) enters the world (1/4) and inserts himself into our hearts within mere seconds - and so, the great adventure begins for dear friends.
5. My niece Trinity turned 10, finally cracking into the double digits and somehow retaining the sweetness and light of childhood, all the while staring her 'tween years in the face. Under the 10-going-on-27 exterior, however, she's still my Boots.
6. My sister and nieces moved home to TN, with bittersweet overtones aplenty.
7. I traveled to Central America and had weight-loss surgery, reclaiming my body for myself and learning that I'm liable to break into Spanish when under the influence of heavy anesthesia. Pounds lost to date: 86. Clothes reclaimed from the back of the closet: 4 shirts, two pairs of pants, and one tuxedo jacket.
8. Got a Facebook message from a private investigator who said my dad was trying to find me and my sister. After much virtual hemming and hawing, the three of us sat down and had coffee, double-chocolate Coca-Cola cake, and 2 hours of conversation at Cracker Barrel, where in true Southern form, our check was comped by the manager when she heard our story.
9. My hometown was flooded when the Cumberland River crawled over its banks, encroaching nearly half a mile into downtown Nashville, submerging Riverfront Park, and causing irreparable damage to thousands of homes, businesses, and cultural rally points such as Schermerhorn Symphony Center and the Grand Ole Opry's Acuff Theater. Later, Lighthouse Christian School - a school funded by the operation of its preschool, and which served as the subject of one of the most incredible YouTube videos I have ever seen, when a portable classroom literally floated down the interstate and was crushed in the water - received a truly amazing gift from Extreme Makeover: Home Edition. In the face of overwhelming loss to their property and ability to operate the preschool (the lifeblood of the rest of the school), LCS set up a community shelter where displaced Nashvillians could come to receive food, blankets, necessaries, and help in rebuilding. All the while, LCS was suffering, but the indomitable heart for the people - one of the many reasons I am *so* proud to call Nashville my hometown - would not let them stand by while the rest of their community suffered so great a tragedy. When Ty Pennington and his crew came on the scene, the principal of LCS stared as though an angel had descended on the school, which of course is exactly what happened. (In the midst of the flood crisis, Nashville received little to non-existent national media coverage, and so I sent an email to Rachel Maddow, beseeching her to give us just a little exposure on her show if it was at all possible. Dr. Maddow responded less than 2 days later - not via email, but via a 4-minute segment on her nightly show, detailing the damage and giving Nashville the airtime it so deserved.)
10. My wife's family lost its matriarch when Elizabeth B. Stefon passed away November 20th. Aunt Betty left no heart unturned, and had an impact on us all. Though it hurts to think of her apartment being rented by someone else, leaving us only a few tenuous threads of connections in the great state of Connecticut, it is easy to imagine Betty reunited with her siblings, parents and all those others who went before her, crippled no more, and able to relax in the knowledge that she made it after all. RIP Aunt Betty - you will be missed.
Overall, 2010 was a year of change: new Congress, new body for me, new location for my sister and nieces, 2 cousins who left for their first years in college, a new baby, weight-loss surgery, the '2L' year, and countless other events that haven't been mentioned here. The 'twenty-ought' decade (quoted from my former Economics teacher, Mr. Adams) came to a close and Susanne and I celebrated with great friends. We enter the 'twenty-teens' decade (again, credit to Mr. Adams) with a hopeful sense of wonder, humility, and excitement at the dawning of a new census period, wherein our dearest hope is that we will be able to add to that census number in our own good time.
Friends, family, strangers who may have simply stumbled on this page - you are so dear to those around you. When you consider 2010 and what you left undone, unsaid, or unwritten, I urge you not to regret but to consider those things a built-in, ready-made goals list for 2011 - as I learned over Christmas, 'for every regrettable, there's a hypothetical.' Don't make your what-ifs into 'woulda, shoulda, coulda.' Change those what-ifs into 'when-I.' Try to live your life so that you don't regret what you've done, but what you've left undone - the best way to accomplish this is not to leave doors unopened or 'I love you's' unsaid, or emotional beds unmade. It's 2011, and I officially declare this the year of CARPE DIEM!!!!
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