Showing posts with label happiness and hope. Show all posts
Showing posts with label happiness and hope. Show all posts

Sunday, August 18, 2019

August 18: The Face of God, Two Beautiful Young People, Happiness and Hope

"To love another person is to see the face of God."
-- Victor Hugo

I am sorry for my prolonged absence from posting regularly.  I have been traveling and performing and wedding-ing.  I have not had much time to simply pause and reflect until this moment.

Yesterday afternoon, I attended the wedding of two beautiful young people.  My nephew and his fiance.  It was a day of sun and warmth and joy.  They got married in a garden filled with the sound of laughter, waterfall, insects.  I love being witness to the beginning of something wonderful.  It provides me with a healthy dose of happiness and hope.

Life is all about choices.  We choose what time to get up in the morning.  What to have for breakfast.  What the day will entail--working or reading or poet-ing or walking the dog.  We also choose who to spend those 16 or 18 waking hours with.  Children or coworkers or family.  Most importantly, as the day draws to a close, a lucky person returns home to someone who gives meaning to everything, even the smallest moments.  Making a bed.  Tying shoes.  Opening mail.

Of course, having this kind of day/life is a choice.  Finding love is about opening yourself up.  And it's also about making the choice to persevere, even in the face of incredible trials.  Marriage is not a sprint.  It's not always filled with the first blush of passion.  Those hot, breathless hours of infatuation.  No.  Marriage is a ultra-marathon, filled with meadows and mountains.  Cool streams in which to swim naked.  Desert roads to walk down. hand-in-hand

It is important to make the choice to say "I do" to someone you love.  It's even more important to stick by that person, in the face of anything--loss, temptation, depression, despair.  To keep saying "I do."  Because "I do" doubles the joys life provides, and it halves the sorrows.  I realize that this is a cliche, but it is a cliche that I firmly believe.  You simply don't give up on love.

That is why being witness yesterday when my nephew and his now wife said "I do" makes me happy.  Hopeful.  Love is sacred.  Even after close to 25 years, I still feel the same way about my wife.  Those years have been filled with pain and heartache.  But they've also given me so much joy, so much laughter.

When I look into my wife's eyes, feel her arms around me, I really do see the face of God.

I wish the same thing for my nephew and his beautiful bride today.  Hold each other tight, in times of joy and in times of tremendous loss.  Look into each other's eyes.  You will see God looking back at you.

Saint Marty sends you his love.


Monday, December 31, 2012

December 31: Balloons, Cheetos, and Hope

Well, I finished decorating for the New Year's Eve party.  The balloons are inflated and dangling from the ceiling.  Pretty much, it's all over but the eating and drinking.  And blogging.

I've been trying to come up with some scrap of wisdom I've gained from the year 2012.  It hasn't been easy.  I mean, nothing has really changed for me.  I'm still part-time at the university (although, I'm unionized now, so I'm officially underpaid).  I'm still working for the outpatient surgery center (although, the surgery center is owned by a national health care organization now, so I'm being undervalued locally and from a distance).  I'm still looking for a publisher for my new book of poems, and I'm still living in the same house.  Money is still an issue for us, and exhaustion is still pretty much my constant companion.

President Obama was reelected, and Mitt Romney was sent back to his multi-million dollar estates and life.  (I'm still not sure who got the better deal there.)  The Middle East is still in upheaval, and school shootings in the United States are still a constant reality.  America is still a long way away from universal healthcare, and I still haven't won the Nobel Prize in Literature (or the Pulitzer Prize or the National Book Award) or been named Adjunct of the Year.

My daughter is gorgeous and twelve.  My son is destructive and four.  The oil companies are still bleeding us dry at the gas pumps, and Cheetos are still one of my favorite snacks.

Tonight, at the stroke of midnight, I will raise my cup of sparkling fruit juice and toast the new year with my family and friends.  It will be a moment of happiness and hope.  A time when anything seems possible.  A tenured professorship at the university.  A new home.  A Best Actress Oscar for Miss Piggy.  (Hey, I said anything.)  Hope is the flavor of the day.

Saint Marty is ready to sing "Auld Lang Syne."

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