MAY 5, 2023 – Today we were among the honored guests at a most resplendent affair. Food and drink were of the finest quality; the music—of Latin temperament—was well chosen and masterfully rendered; the attendees were neither too few nor too numerous to provide a steady flow of scintillating conversation; and the whole celebration was nicely framed by old elegance and new accommodations.
But by unanimous agreement, at the heart of the matter—this wedding—was the homily by the inimitable Father Kevin McDonough, long-time friend of the bride, Linda Lovas Hoeschler, and her family; and now, friend of the groom, Peter Blyberg. Father McDonough’s springboard was an experience he’d had during a visit to Monticello, home of Thomas Jefferson. Between two expansive shelved repositories of books—the means and symbols of the enlightened mind—was a large window providing a view onto slave quarters. Jefferson had decided to donate much of his library to academia. What had allowed him the means to acquire—then give away—his books, was the financial gain he’d extracted from slave labor.
This contradiction bothered Father McDonough, especially as he pondered the words of Jefferson’s most famous work, the Declaration of Independence; specifically, “[That we] are endowed by [our] Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.”
Father McDonough’s revelatory insight from all of this turned a basic tenet of American culture upside down: instead of viewing “happiness” through a #MeNow lens, he saw “the pursuit of happiness” from the perspective of making others happy. By assigning this “selfless” meaning to “the pursuit of happiness,” we turn the focus away from ourselves and onto others. Our own happiness, in turn, is assured by the measure of happiness we give others.
This message was applied to the couple being married: two extraordinary people whose joy, witnessed and celebrated by those in attendance, is like that of two roses blossoming from intertwined stems of pain, loss and suffering. Lifelong friends—the couple and their late spouses—shared very much in common, starting with Peter and Jack, Linda’s late husband, rowing in close synchronization, the same boat while there were on the Georgetown University championship rowing team that Jack and Peter had helped build from scratch (including the baking and sale of cookies to raise . . . dough . . . for equipment and team expenses).
Peter’s late wife died after a long battle with cancer, during which Peter dedicated himself to her care. Likewise, for many months, Linda devoted herself to Jack’s fight with cancer. Peter and Linda’s respective ordeals didn’t end when battles closed. Both, as surviving spouses, felt the loss, the loneliness, the emptiness that cannot be fully understood except by people who’ve experienced the same.
But then these two wonderful people, Linda and Peter, applied the insight that Father McDonough had discovered at Monticello: the pursuit of (another’s) happiness. As a result, pain, loss, loneliness, emptiness have been replaced by the visual, figurative and olfactory fragrance of fresh roses smiling in the springtime sun after long Maine (Peter) and Minnesota (Linda) winters.
All present were uplifted by the witness and celebration of two people’s selfless pursuit of happiness . . . and by the hope that springs eternal from loving hearts.
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© 2023 by Eric Nilsson
