By Michael P. Gunn
Gunn & Rossiter, P.C.
St. Louis
From a traditional Irish song
Thursday I had the privilege of speaking at the hooding ceremony preceding the graduation of the law school. It was held in the symphony hall, with hordes of happy parents, spouses and other well-wishers filling the orchestra, loge and balcony. I sat on the stage, in cap and gown and hood, just like one of the faculty [it was COOL!].
The names were called as each graduate ascended the stage and was hooded by a member of the faculty. Our son and daughter-in-law, due to their matrimonial alphabetical order, ascended the stage en seriatim. I couldn't help myself — I jumped from my chair and hugged and kissed both of them. And I cried. No one seemed to mind. I couldn't help but notice the euphoric look that every one of the almost 200 graduates had on their faces. No one could guess how any one of them intended to use his or her J.D. degree into the future, but they all sure seemed in ecstasy. Family members cheered for their grad – happy for a goal achieved.
On Friday, I went to the courthouse to attend the annual memorial service for all of the lawyers from the area who had died the previous year. Once again, the names were read, but in a much slower and more subdued tone. Family members wept and remembered lives spent in our profession. And I cried. What a wuss!
At the memorial service I sat there struck by the spectrum I was witnessing in that 24-hour period. It was the span of a legal career, Alpha and Omega, beginning and end. I had to wonder: Were the hopes and dreams of the deceased lawyers, once new graduates, ever achieved? Did their lives proceed in the way they planned? How many heartbreaks and disappointments did they endure? Were they happy in their lives?
One of the things I mentioned in my hooding speech was that, in my opinion, money is not the only currency. I suggested that quality of life and peace of mind were of much greater value than any material success. How many people have you known who placed too high a value on professional and monetary success and too little on personal happiness?
I don't want to walk across that final stage, with someone reading my name at the memorial service, and look back on a life of great success as a lawyer but greater personal failure as a husband, or a father, or a friend.
The Mormons had a billboard years ago that read, "No other success can overcome failure in the home." I think they were right. I believe that all of us would be well advised to measure our success by that standard rather than by some other materialistic ruler.
There I go lecturing again. Well, that's how I feel. I'll proof this article before sending and cry again thinking of those bright young faces crossing the stage with all of their hopes and dreams intact. I'll think of the names of my friends being read like a dirge at a memorial service and of my hope that every one of their dreams were fulfilled.