The Last Lecture

The Last Lecture
60
Jai and Me
A S ANY family dealing with cancer knows, caregivers are often
pushed to the sidelines. Patients get to focus on themselves. They’re
the objects of adulation and sympathy. Caregivers do the heavy
lifting, with little time to deal with their own pain and grief.
My wife, Jai, is a cancer caregiver with even more on her plate: three
little kids. So as I prepared to give my last lecture, I made a decision. If
this talk was to be my moment, I wanted some way to show everyone how
much I love and appreciate her.
It happened like this: Near the end of the lecture, as I reviewed the
lessons I’d learned in my life, I mentioned how vital it is to focus on
other people, not just yourself. Looking offstage, I asked: “Do we have a
concrete example of focusing on somebody else over there? Could we
bring it out?”
Because the day before had been Jai’s birthday, I arranged to have
a large birthday cake with a single candle waiting on a rolling table
offstage. As the cake was wheeled out by Jai’s friend Cleah Schlueter, I
explained to the audience that I hadn’t given Jai a proper birthday, and
thought it might be nice if I could get four hundred people to sing to
her. They applauded the idea and began singing.
“Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you…”
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