Ted Kennedy was a gifted, complicated repository of human frailty, the good and the bad, the ugly and the pretty, that is politics in this country. I don’t recall that he ever offered himself as an example-and just as well-but he did summon us like no other to the give and forgiveness of redemption that attends an age-old precept: “I am my brother’s keeper.”
Whatever our differences, we cast them aside as we recall the life of a remarkable man. The tributes flow, as they should, and they arrive from all corners. It always strikes me when this occurs after the death of the giants among us, why we cannot manage some of the kindness while they are living. The left and right demonize the other’s icons in life and only after life ends do the tributes flow. Too bad really.
The intellects and the academics will probably say that he was the greatest Senator of the 20th century, and some will venture to proclaim him the greatest in the history of the Republic. Most of the rest of us will likely go along as Webster, Clay and Calhoun seem to have been, with maybe some good intentions, just trying to compromise about an abomination.
His family, publicly or privately, will surely give thanks that he embraced the role of a loving father figure for the thirteen children of his two murdered brothers while never lessening his love for his sons, daughter or the children of his beloved wife.
His colleagues in the Senate will almost certainly proclaim his great knowledge, institutional memory, passion, friendship and his joyous, infectious humor.
Thousands, if not millions, of men and women – some with names recognized around the world, some with names forgotten by all but God – will appreciate the many kindnesses: great and small, known and unknown. They will recollect the great generosity that arose from his empathy and, in more cases than not, remember their initial question, “how the heck did Teddy Kennedy remember that?”
This I know:
As of about 2:00 a.m. last night:
Heaven is a better place . . .
and it will be a lot more fun.