The last pages of President-Elect Obama's autobiography take place at the reception for his wedding to Michelle in 1992. The last two pages begin:
The person who made me proudest of all, though, was [my brother] Roy. Actually, now we call him Abongo, his Luo name, for two years ago he decided to reassert his African heritage. He converted to Islam, and has sworn off pork and tobacco and alcohol. He still works at his accounting firm [in Washington D.C.], but talks about moving back to Kenya once he has enough money.
My mother’s chin started to tremble again, and Abongo lifted up his glass of fruit punch for a toast. “To those who are not here with us,” he said.
“And to a happy ending,” I said.
We dribbled our drinks onto the checkered-tile floor. And for that moment, at least, I felt like the luckiest man alive.
I love that "And for that moment, at least."
Jeez, Obama, stop feeling so sorry for yourself. You are the luckiest man alive.
The last line of Dreams, by the way, is a pallid knockoff of baseball slugger Lou Gehrig's famous line from his last appearance at Yankee Stadium in 1939 after he had to leave the lineup after 2130 consecutive games.
"Fans, for the past two weeks you have been reading about the bad break I got. Yet today I consider myself the luckiest man on the face of the earth."
When he said that, Lou was dying of Lou Gehrig's Disease. (Yeah, yeah, I know, he should have seen it coming.)