The Marriage of Leonard
Poisson and Dean Sanchez
May 28, 2016
Cobblestone Farms
Ann Arbor, Michigan
Good
evening everyone and welcome to our celebration of the marriage of Leonard
Poisson and Dean Sanchez.
The
Vietnamese Buddhist, author, and peace activist Thich Nhat Hanh said: “The
present moment is filled with joy and happiness. If you are attentive, you will
see it.” This evening, in this
present moment, you will not be able to miss it.
Indeed,
“joy and happiness” seem like inadequate words. This evening strikes me as
bigger than that, as an occasion for dancing in the streets or under the stars
or on the tables—well, perhaps when we were all a little younger. After all, tonight
we do not just honor a love, but a great love—a love that has endured; a love
that has overcome; a love that has prevailed.
Talking
about Leonard and Dean poses its challenges because there are so many
interesting things to say about such interesting people. Oscar Wilde wrote: “Be
yourself. Everyone else is taken.” And I suspect that none of us knows any two
people who are more completely themselves than Leonard and Dean. So someone
charged with making the introductory remarks before these two exchange vows has
lots of good material to work with. How to choose?
Well,
let me tell you a story. I was honored when Leonard and Dean asked if I would
assist with this ceremony. And I was delighted when they invited Lisa and me to
dinner to think out loud about the kind of ceremony they wanted it to be. So we
went to their stylish condominium and had delicious food and talked.
Knowing
Dean and Leonard as you do, I am sure you will all understand what I mean when
I say it was a non-linear conversation. We talked about everything imaginable
and in no particular order: home renovation; decorating; dogs; cats; antiques;
food; physical ailments and injuries; religion; philosophy; death; some of the
times that made our hearts strong; some of the times that broke them. Imagine
one of the more abstract Jackson Pollack splatter paintings and think of it as
a visual representation of our conversation.
Yet,
somehow, in the course of all this chatter three absolutely clear themes
emerged. I hope that you will agree with me that they play a leading role in
defining Dean and Leonard both as individuals and as a couple. And I hope that
you will see why these themes matter as we gather today to celebrate their
union.
The
first theme is: Tend your flock. Tend
your flock.
As
I am sure you have noticed, Dean and Leonard gather people around them—a flock
of sorts. And then they tend to them, love them, support them, cheer for them,
listen to them, make them laugh, preen them, feed them, take them in, nurse
them, even see them from this world to the next.
Once
you are in their flock it is tough to get out. Their care for you is neither
fragile nor fickle. Like their love for each other, it endures, overcomes, and
prevails.
So
Dean and Leonard are sorry for the absence today of some people they wish could
be with us. And they have asked me to call their names as a way of remembering
them and bringing them into our presence:
Leonard’s
mom and dad, Marion and Lewis
Dean’s
grandma and grandpa, Rose and Joe
Morton,
Leonard’s dear, dear friend
Karen,
a member of Dean’s family
Leonard’s
brother Loren
Dean’s
good friends Ross and Mo
Leonard’s
sister Lisa
Russ,
Dean’s cousin who they recently lost
Dean’s
uncle Chuck
To paraphrase a famous
passage, when two or more are gathered in the name of Love, then Love is
there—and so are those we love. So welcome Marion, Lewis, Rose, Joe, Morton, Karen,
Loren, Ross, Mo, Lisa, Russ, and Chuck. Pull up a chair. We’re just getting
started.
And, because Dean and Leonard care so much for their flock,
it matters a great deal to them that all of you are here this evening. I
suspect that everyone here could tell a story about being tended to by these
men—how one or both of them helped you out, or brought you in, or nurtured you,
or lifted you up when you were down, or fed you, or listened to you, or danced
with you, or gossiped with you, or cried with you, or made you laugh so hard
you spat out your martini. My, but aren’t we all the lucky ones?
So
Dean and Leonard are well versed in the sacred arts of compassion. Think of how
wonderfully they have cared for all of you: yesterday, and the day before, and
the day before. And now imagine how wonderfully they will care for each other:
tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow.
The
second of my themes is: Gather treasures
around you. Gather treasures around you.
As
you all know, these men follow a creed that has a mecca all its own. And that
sacred temple is called Treasure Mart.
If
you have had the pleasure of touring Dean and Leonard’s elegant condominium
then you know that they can recite for you the history and pedigree of each table,
chair, artifact, and vase that has found its way into their collection.
Everything is, of course, gorgeous and in spectacular taste. And much of it
comes from Treasure Mart, where I believe Leonard and Dean direct deposit their
checks.
As
we walked around their rooms I was struck by how good their eyes are—how easily
and perfectly they can see the beauty in things that have been around the
block, that may have some visible nicks, that other people—indeed, most
people—would pass by. In my view, this special sight they have is a gift more
rare than mathematical genius—and far more valuable.
This
gift matters, of course, not because of the stunning leather chair or the
dazzling glassware or the handsome china cabinet—although that is all lovely
stuff that I shamelessly envy. It matters because they also apply that special
sight to their fellow human beings. They see the beauty in those of us that
have been around the block—and that the block has treated poorly; those of us
that have deep scars in our grain—some of which we carefully keep out of sight;
those of us that the world has passed over—without so much as a glance backward.
Leonard
and Dean do not just gather people into their flock—they gather all kinds of people into it. And they do
so because they see the beauty in all of us—even those of us that are gathering
dust in some obscure and untraveled corner. Dean and Leonard would say, with
Oscar Wilde: “Be yourself, everyone else is taken.” And they would add: “And when
you are yourself we will love you for it.”
I
have it on good authority that—like the rest of us—Dean and Leonard are not
perfect. They have creaky joints and nicks and dust of their own. So how
wonderful that they can continue to bring their special sight into this relationship, always seeing the
abundant beauty in each other, no matter what.
You
might wonder how these two gained the capacity to tend their unruly flock and
the special sight necessary to recognize the treasures in their lives. Or, to
put it more bluntly, you might wonder how somewhere along the line these two men
became wise. I am afraid that the
answer is as true as it is hard.
And
it brings me to my third theme: Through
our struggles, we have found our way. Through our struggles, we have found our
way.
Dean
and Leonard have faced serious challenges during their years together: illness;
injury; the loss of loved ones; and, let’s be candid, a society too backward
and boorish to allow them to do what they are doing right now. The same
experiences that might have made other people bitter, hateful, and timid have
made these two joyful, embracing, and, well, let’s just say “not timid” and
leave it at that.
When we gather to celebrate the marriage of young people, it is conventional for
them to promise that they will stay beside each other despite the slings and
arrows that will come along. It is pretty to hear. But I think we cannot help
but notice that we are getting brave testimonials from the unwounded.
These
two, in contrast, have walked through the fire. They do not just know what they are made of—they know what they are made of. I am sure that they
would happily have gone without some of the struggles that have come along the
way—they might ask, with Tevye from Fiddler
on the Roof, would it “spoil some vast, eternal plan” if there had been a
little less of that?
But
it is those experiences that have brought them here today. And it is those
experiences that will allow them to keep what
they are making here today. When new
challenges come along they will be able to say: “It is all right. We know what
we are doing. We have done it before. Many times, in fact.”
In
a moment, I am going to pass the ceremony to Supa, who will administer the Buddhist
marriage vows to Leonard and Dean. But, before I do, I would like to close with
a brief story and a quotation that I think is particularly apt for this
ceremony and for these men.
Lisa
and I have a favorite movie called Babbette’s
Feast. I’m sure many of you know it. In
a sense, the film is about fine food and the special magic that takes place
between human beings when they gather over it and talk. Our dinner with Leonard
and Dean had more than a little of that magic to it.
The
film is also, indeed mostly, about love. One of the central characters is an
aging general who has been torturing himself with questions about his decision
to pursue a glamorous military career rather than remaining with the woman he
adored—and still adores. He sees the woman again—after decades have passed—and
his initial reaction is one of deep regret.
But
then he realizes that, in the end, their love has endured, overcome, prevailed.
It is still there—as real and palpable as if they had never been apart. And, at
the end of the film, he says this to her:
“I’ve
been with you every day of my life. Tell me that you know that. And I shall be
with you every day from now on. For tonight I have learned that, in this
beautiful world of ours, all things are
possible.”
Welcome
Dean and Leonard, into this beautiful night, into this beautiful new life, in
which all things are possible. Thanks for inviting us along.We
will stand by you in your struggles. We know what treasures you are. You are in
our flocks, too.
