Show Me, Don’t Tell Me.

I went to a friend’s graduation party last night. He’s almost the same age as I am, and just finished medical school, an enormous feat by any standards, but even more so in his case because he went back to college after many years, and then onto medical school. I’m going to have a difficult time of it, reconciling my awe of him and my friendship with him. But as I told him at the party, putting him on a pedestal just makes it easier to check out his ass.

His party was jam-packed with his family, with his partner’s family, and with his social family (including myself, luckily). There was much mirth, and nothing of the clever-bitchy-patyourselfonthebackforyourscathingwit variety. Just good times with good people.

There were tears, as well, tears of gratitude from my friend to his partner, to his parents, his sister, his children, his friends. Tears of joy, obvious joy, at his good fortune in having such a wondrous constellation of people in his life.

Tears for being overwhelmed by it all, it seemed.

In a city and in a culture that does not value the long-term view, nor much of anything you can’t immediately see or see in a mirror, I was reminded that the long-term still exists, that so many things are worth building on, and that at the end of the day, week, month, year, life, the only thing we have is our own lovely, sublime humanity.

I thank them without limit for inviting me into their lives.