My favorite Christmas movie of all time is It's a Wonderful Life. Some people say it's not a Christmas movie because most of the film's action takes place outside of the holiday season. I disagree. It's a film that screams Christmas to me.
At the conclusion of the movie, Clarence Odbody, the angel sent to save George Bailey's/Jimmy Stewart's life, inscribes a book to George thusly: "Remember, no man is a failure who has friends." George's friends literally save the day (and his life).
Billy Collins learns about the primacy of friendship . . .
Lucky Bastards
by: Billy Collins
From the deck of the swimming pool
you could see the planes taking off from LAX
and whenever my father visited his friend there,
the two of them would sit in the sun with their drinks
and kill the time between golf and dinner
by betting on whether the next plane would break
left or right, and if you picked the long shot--
one continuing straight over the ocean--you got double.
The time I was there with them, I watched
the singles and fives changing hands
as they laughed "You lucky bastard!"
and I learned again the linkage between friendship and money
and the sweet primacy of one over the other,
which is not to say that Sandburg's six-volume
biography of Lincoln or the writings of Lao Tzu
are not also excellent teachers, each in its own way.
I'm a pretty lucky bastard.
My life is crowded people who love me. I'm still not quite sure what I've done to deserve all this kindness and affection. Since I've been writing about my mental health struggles these last 30 or so days, I've received lots of encouragement from my loyal disciples and friends.
I'm not gonna lie. A couple times this past month, I've been standing on the bridge with George, staring down at the roiling black waters. Don't worry. I'm not going to jump. I got past the moment, and I will get past it again if it recurs. I've personally seen the aftermath of loved one's of a "successful" suicide. (Such a weird juxtaposition of words--"successful" plus "suicide.") I would never put my family through that.
This evening, I led a Zoom poetry workshop. Only three people showed up--one really good poet friend, my wife, and myself--but it was a great time. The theme of the workshop was Christmas. We wrote about cards, ornaments, places, and people. We laughed a lot. Got a little teary, too. At the end, we wished each other safe, peaceful, happy holidays.
I know I'm not a failure. I have friends. A lot of them. Poets. Musicians. Teachers. Librarians. Artists.
They rescue Saint Marty from the bridge every day.
❤️
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