I am a fortunate person. That’s not to say I haven’t had (perhaps more than) my “fair” share of bad luck. But I’ve discovered that I’m pretty good at rolling with the punches and getting back up again. I had some early schooling in this: No matter how difficult life seems, it could always be worse.
Life is a journey and happiness is not a destination, but rather the roadside attractions along the way. We are tiny specs in an unimaginably vast universe that is benignly indifferent to our struggles and accomplishments. We are what we make of ourselves. Looking anywhere else is misguided and a waste of emotional energy.
People have said to me, “I don’t know how you do it. I don’t think I could.” And my response is always, “Yes, you could…because there is no other choice.” We are as strong as we have to be.
You’ve all been in my thoughts. I don’t know what that means, going through what you’ve been going through, but I wanted you to know there’re people out there, thinking of you and hoping you’re okay
Dear Celeste,
You may or may not remember me. Alex and I got to be friends over a lot of lunches when I was a summer associate at K&E in 2002. One pretty weekend day, I rented a sailboat. You and Alex and a few of your friends had me over for brunch, and then we all went sailing together. It’s a favorite memory of mine. When I started working at the firm full time, I saw Alex less. We kept in touch on occasion after I moved to Minneapolis. I thought of Alex recently and meant to get in touch.
Today, I had lunch with a friend from K&E who told me about Alex’s passing. I looked up his blog. Reading Alex’s blog brought back memories of why I liked Alex so much — such a great wit and way about him. It made me all the more sad to know that he is gone.
I wanted to write to offer my condolences, however untimely. I am very sorry for your and your family’s loss.
Yours sincerely,
Mark Johnson