So it was two years ago today my sister and brother-in-law got hitched! Since then, together they have gone through the Great Recession, two major earthquakes, a nuclear scare, and an international move. But life is supposed to be uneventful. It is about the routine, domesticity, everyday, and indeed, what meanings would the inscriptions on the tablet of life possibly have, Kierkergaard wonders, if there is no repetition? I have no crystal ball, but the new chapter of their life will probably be more recognizable. I offered them a few words at their wedding. Now when I read it all over again, I think they have so far managed to dedicate their whole lives to each other, and with this degree of dedication, they will fill many years ahead with meanings and a ton of work. Happy anniversary!
I would also like to share my thoughts with all of you, first, as Olivia’s brother, and second, on behalf of my mother and father, who would have been overjoyed, and relieved, to give his daughter’s hand to Nelson, a dear friend of mine, a fun and witty companion to be around, and a generous, dependable, compassionate, and intellectually curious young man whom I am truly proud to call “my brother-in-law.” Please let me begin by honoring the memory of my father, who cannot be with us today. Dedicating his adult life to his family, my father had taught us that the word “dedication” is not merely a noun, but it rather should be a verb. Dedication, indeed, is a lot of work. Dedication is taking us to restaurants, beaches, and botanical gardens; dedication is making sure his loved ones do not have to work as hard as he did; dedication is leaving for work in the wee hours, and returning when the kids have already gone to bed. Dedication gives love its concrete definitions.
Nelson and Olivia, I know love brought you two together, and since the early days at 245 Hyland Avenue in Ames, Iowa, your dedication to each other has flourished into a life-long project. Today marks the beginning—I am sure—of an ever-growing “to do” list. Maybe one day, I don’t know, you two will have children. You will worry about school, health, college fund, and how to help them navigate through the adventures of life. One day—yes, the forces of impermanence will not spare anybody, as Lord Buddha reminds us in the Three Marks of Existence—your beloved cat Mol and both of you will grow old, become weak and ill, and you will have to work very hard to take care of him and each other. I am not saying this to daunt you, of course not, as I know both of you are well prepared to undertake this project, and in its course, find happiness together. You will also work to bring the best out of each other. Despite the challenges, our two families will assist both of you to the best of our abilities, and so will many guests here, your good friends and relatives, even those from afar, such as all those who have already contributed to this beautiful wedding in ways big and small.
Now I wish to conclude by citing Sigmund Freud, my favorite thinker of all time. Once he was asked what he thought a normal person should be able to do well. Freud’s answer was not as complicated as we might expect. He is reported to have said, “Lieben und arbeiten,” or, in English, “to love and to work.” He later elaborated in his book Civilization and Its Discontents by saying, “the communal life of human beings had […] a two-fold foundation: the compulsion to work, which was created by external necessity, and the power of love.” Nelson and Olivia, I am afraid I cannot offer you better words than those of the Viennese doctor. I hope they will inspire you two in your common future, “lieben und arbeiten,” “aimer et travailler,” “戀愛與工作,” or, “to love and to work.” Thank you.
On the Ridge of Pratt 