Joelle and I are heading down to the Beaujolais later today to spend Christmas with her 94 year old grandmother who she adores. Quite a few members of the family will be coming by this year as Colette has not been feeling well lately so everyone hopes that a big family gathering will boost her spirits. Colette has been so generous with everyone over the years so we all look forward to raising a glass of Champagne (her favorite) and talking about the fun times over the years.
I received a holiday letter from a friend yesterday and thought I'd share part of it as I think it sums up what is really important. He's 65 and divides his time between Paris and Philadelphia where his kids and grandchildren reside. For me, it's Joelle, family and good friends and the rest is just a bonus.
Many friends, both French and American, remain important parts of my life, even though at times I am remiss or careless about them. I have learned a great deal from them all and they have helped me often.
Nonetheless, I think about the difficulties we face: an economic crisis which could easily turn into a depression; two wars which seem to have no end in sight; many people with diminished hope and future prospects. Despite all this, I try to keep focused on what counts in life—and that is essentially the people in it—family, loved ones, friends. That makes the other difficult parts more endurable and, in many cases, not that troublesome.
When I reach that point when death calls, I don’t think I will wish for another day at the office; but I might wish to hug Sammy Fitz and Rosemary one more time. I don’t think I will wish that I had closed that business transaction; but I might wish for one more Thanksgiving celebration. I don’t think I will wish to have won that match or succeeded in that exam; but I might wish to have one more dinner and long conversation with those friends I hold dear. I don’t think I will wish to have earned more money; but I might wish to have spent more time, and to have used more of what I have, to help others.
So when you reflect this year at Christmas, and when you face the difficulties of the coming year, keep focused on what counts.
The old Swedish farmer, when asked why he loved his wife, at first was perplexed. He was not clever with words or emotions; so he looked at the ground and then at the sky; he scratched his chin and seemed lost, until suddenly he brightened and said: “Because she’s my best friend”. That’s really it, isn’t it? He really got it, didn’t he?
And finally, midst all the turmoil, remember to go at life with gusto and abandon.
“Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body. But rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming—wow—what a ride!”
