I wake up Thanksgiving morning with eyebrows scrunched over a sad and confusing dream, a slight hangover, and Bruno Mars "I Think I Wanna Marry You" playing in my head, and I have a revelation.
The dream was of my parents having a ninth child (we don't need to go in to the whole explanation of how bizarre that is right now), whose birth I missed, but I read in the morning paper that he only lived long enough to look very happily at his parents.
The hangover is from a single beer and a conversation with my sister (Take this Cup Motivational and Spatial Design Consultant) about life being basically unfair and way, way too much work.
Bruno Mars came along in a video link the other day, sent to me by my good friend (and Take this Cup Marketing and Graphic Design Consultant) of a tear-jerking-from-even-the-biggest-jerk marriage proposal in which all of the friends and family of a couple (including a marching band and some friends on Skype) come out to dance and lip-synch along. Of course I cried. At the time I thought "a pox on these videos until late February, or I'll never survive!" And I thought it was too much for me because it made me feel like a spinster.
But here's the truth.
The video makes you cry (yes, it will make You cry) not because two people are getting married, but because a whole community of people love them so much that they spent hours putting together a synchronized dance for an audience of one. And because they happily believe in love.
Life is unfair, and it will give you a hangover. You will have to work and work and work, and you might lose everything. Or you might have everything you could possibly want and still be unhappy. But I realize this morning that the random unfairness of life has worked in my favor far more often than not. Being born itself, even for a minute, is an incredible gift.
I taught a Conversational English class in Korea in which the topic one day was what you would do with a month left to live on Earth. One student said "Everyone, write." I teacherly wrote on the board "I would write letters to everyone." Underneath I wrote "I'm sorry for.... Thank you for...." He stopped me and said something I don't think I'll ever forget. "Not sorry, just thank you."
There's no time to edit now- it's time to clean up and get the green beans and salad ready and celebrate this wonderful holiday. I won't list all of the things I have to be thankful for, except for you. Thanks for reading my blog. Thanks for believing in my dream.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KQSZbQWuSKs&feature=fvwrel
