“I know not all that may be coming, but be it what it will, I’ll go to it laughing.”*
And he will. Happy Birthday to my youngest son, who turns twenty today!
I’m happy to see that he hasn’t lost the mischievous smile or the twinkle in his eye. Long may it be so!
If, while you are contemplating your own past, you want a good read over the weekend (or maybe several; it’s long) and you haven’t already read it, dive into Donna Tartt’s The Goldfinch. Its quite wonderful and deserves all the accolades it has received over the years. Yes, it could have used some editing — it’s a little long-winded in places — but I applaud her point; beautiful things — art, literature, music, knowledge — make life worth living. The truth is, “that fate is cruel but maybe not random. That Nature (meaning Death) always wins but that doesn’t mean we have to bow and grovel to it. That maybe even if we’re not always so glad to be here, it’s our task to immerse ourselves anyway: wade straight through it, right through the cesspool, while keeping eyes and hearts open. And in the midst of our dying, as we rise from the organic and sink back ignominiously into the organic, it is a glory and a privilege to love what Death doesn’t touch.” Amen to that.
*Herman Melville, Moby Dick