- I am grateful for the way your laugh spirits away darkness
- I am grateful for touch of your hand against my wrist
- I am grateful for your sharp mind pushing kindness into the world
- I am grateful for the freckles that surround the smile in your eyes
- I am grateful for the sound of patience in your heartbeat
- I am grateful for the day we met and walked into our future together beneath the giant redwoods
- I am grateful for the diversity in our backgrounds and the quest to understand each other
- I am grateful for the snap in your step
- I am grateful for the vision of you perched atop the worlds greatest bridge floating above my heart like a bird
- I am grateful for your inner and outer beauty which wraps my soul
- I am grateful for the wrinkles that appear on your nose when you smile
- I am grateful for the intensity with which you listen in order to understand me
- I am grateful for the stories you tell me of your life and how they touch me
- I am grateful for your girlish figure and how beautiful you are
- I am grateful for your wizardry, your proclivity towards fortune tellers, and the alignment of our houses
- I am grateful for every moment I have spent with you
- I am grateful for the dreams we share together untethered by practicality
- I am grateful for the love we share and what it will bring the world
The concept that what goes around comes around has never been consistent with my observations in life.
I want to argue against the supposition that historical relevance is not effective statistically for predicting the future. My argument is simple. It is an evolutionary adaptation and therefore produced advantage. Advantage is not always obvious or even current. Advantage can come in an unpredictable shortfall that is associated with some other genetic attribute that somehow tenders the possessor more survivable.
My mother is 90, she lost her mom at 6, her father at 9, her grandmother at 17, and her uncle at 21 to TB. She was in a sanitarium for 9 months in a ward with 50 other women at the war’s end in 1945. After four years of marriage she lost her first son to drowning. When she was 40 they operated on her lungs to remove TB. At 60 the doctors removed a tumor wrapped around her hearing canal and paralyzed the left side of her face. Her husband died after 15 long years of parkinson’s disease.
My mother is the happiest, kindest, most positive woman I know. Today we went to the movie, “The Heat”, and to dinner at Mangia Mia in Danville. I am grateful that life has given me the opportunity to live with my mother when I am an adult and share some of her life. Nothing has, and nothing ever will, mean more to me than the time we have shared together.
It is the wonder of genetics that when I wake in the morning I hear a familiar bird singing her song of love and life mixed with the gentle speech of trees dancing in the breeze. It is miraculous that my mind is carried to the light shining through the ferns in Muir Woods translucently reflecting the dewey solitude a forest competing for existence. How is it that I awake with dreams of a woman’s hand gently resting on my chest and see the beauty in her face at peace with the world.
We are all the history of our little corner of the universe encapsulated in the miracle of combinatorial mathematics played out in the infinite intersection of probability and time. To be aware. To hold in our minds a concept of a potential future. To create that future. To touch our partners with such love and joy. And all the effects of striving for survival. If that isn’t ultimately the most beautiful thing I have ever heard, I don’t know what is.
You can all believe in God, creation, infinite wisdom if you want. But my world, my universe is so vast with beauty and probabilities, I cannot let that beauty go to a simple manifestation of reason and causality.
LIfe is, of course spectacular. I am grateful for the people I have met in my life, especially the women I have been able to call friends. Recently I broke up with someone I loved knowing that over time it cannot work for me. No matter how hard I try to rationalize my decision it still feels horrible to give up on someone who is good for me. In life, some decisions, must be made, not for yourself, or for the moment, but for the next 10,000 moments. This was one of those decisions. Very painful. I am sorry Brenda. I wish you a better man than me.