Senator Edward Kennedy died late last night, and the news networks have been busily reporting on his life and his life's work. At dinner tonight my friend from Ireland asked the table why Teddy's death was so important. After a couple of replies, he said, "ah, so he's like American royalty then."
Teddy was the last of the brothers that included a president, a World War II hero, and a Attorney General assassinated before he could (possibly) win the presidency. He was also the only brother that died from natural causes.
But he is also known for his very public car accident at Chappaquiddick, where his car plunged into water, he fled the scene, and his passenger died. Later, he pled guilty and apologized for his actions, and let the citizens of Massachusetts decide whether or not they would allow him back to public service.
He was known for his work in the legislature, known for small acts of kindess, and also known for his drinking and carousing with women.
In the end then, he was like most of us - flawed; damaged by what life's blows have dealt. But in spite of everything, he was also greatly loved. Even those who didn't agree with his politics are celebrating his life and his work.
I wish only this for my own life. That I live fully, and that people love me in spite of my flaws. In the words of Teddy Kennedy when eulogizing his own brother Bobby:
"My brother need not be idealized, or enlarged in death beyond what he was in life; to be remembered simply as a good and decent man, who saw wrong and tried to right it, saw suffering and tried to heal it, saw war and tried to stop it.
Those of us who loved him and who take him to his rest today, pray that what he was to us and what he wished for others will some day come to pass for all the world. As he said many times, in many parts of this nation, to those he touched and who sought to touch him: 'Some men see things as they are and say why. I dream things that never were and say why not.'"
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Sunday, August 16, 2009
30 Years
I swore a long time ago that I wouldn't go to a class reunion. I hated high school - I was so shy, wore glasses and had braces, and liked to read - all things that painted a target on my back that said "geek - please ignore".
I didn't go to my 10th, or my 20th (nobody even bothered to contact me for the 20th, and for the 10th, they asked me to come 2 days prior to the reunion). So when I heard about the 30th, I figured that no way wasw I going to subject myself to feeling like a geeky girl with braces and glasses again.
But I live an hour away from my home town now (during the summer), and I've changed so much since then. If I can charm a room full of Egyptians, or Greeks, or Canadiens, or Maltese, why can't I do the same for people I haven't seen for 30 years?
I spent all day Saturday getting ready. I colored my hair, put on fake nails, flattened my hair, and put on an outfit I last wore in Miami for a conference. I stopped by my brother's house to say hi and goodbye to my niece who was visiting, and the girls told me that my thong was showing through my white pants. Horrors.
So I went home and changed clothes (it was raining anyway, and my white pants would have been ruined). I drove an hour in the rain to my hometown, and arrived at my brother's house, where I would spend the night or not. I still thought that I would duck out early and drive back to the lake if I hated it.
I drove downtown to the park and searched for my classmates. I was clutching my senior class yearbook, thinking that maybe someone would recognize me. Once I found them, the game was on. I plastered the smile on my face, and said "nice to see you" so many times I thought I might die. Especially since I didn't recognize hardly anybody from their class pictures, which I had studied for several weeks before the event.
The boys - well, a lot of them lost their hair, and some gained a bit of weight. The girls though, they pretty much looked the same - hairstyles have changed, and some lost weight, or gained a couple of pounds from babies, but really, they looked the same.
And the cutest guy in the class? Well, he's still cute. He still has his hair, but it's gone all white now. He still has the build of the football player he once was, and has the scar on his arm from the sports-related accident he had our senior year.
We've lost one classmate to death, in a grain elevator accident. Another one might be in trouble with the law, but nobody has heard from him in a few years. Amongst my former classmates there was an accountant, finance director in a plastic manufacturing company, farmers, truck drivers, window manufacturing workers, housewives, teachers, and rancher.
Someone said that our class was nothing special, but that was okay. I beg to differ - almost all of us survived , and several of our classmates have had 20 or 30 year marriages, with kids and grandkids to show for it. And while no one was rich or famous, we all seemed happy...at least for one special night in the park 30 years after high school.
I didn't go to my 10th, or my 20th (nobody even bothered to contact me for the 20th, and for the 10th, they asked me to come 2 days prior to the reunion). So when I heard about the 30th, I figured that no way wasw I going to subject myself to feeling like a geeky girl with braces and glasses again.
But I live an hour away from my home town now (during the summer), and I've changed so much since then. If I can charm a room full of Egyptians, or Greeks, or Canadiens, or Maltese, why can't I do the same for people I haven't seen for 30 years?
I spent all day Saturday getting ready. I colored my hair, put on fake nails, flattened my hair, and put on an outfit I last wore in Miami for a conference. I stopped by my brother's house to say hi and goodbye to my niece who was visiting, and the girls told me that my thong was showing through my white pants. Horrors.
So I went home and changed clothes (it was raining anyway, and my white pants would have been ruined). I drove an hour in the rain to my hometown, and arrived at my brother's house, where I would spend the night or not. I still thought that I would duck out early and drive back to the lake if I hated it.
I drove downtown to the park and searched for my classmates. I was clutching my senior class yearbook, thinking that maybe someone would recognize me. Once I found them, the game was on. I plastered the smile on my face, and said "nice to see you" so many times I thought I might die. Especially since I didn't recognize hardly anybody from their class pictures, which I had studied for several weeks before the event.
The boys - well, a lot of them lost their hair, and some gained a bit of weight. The girls though, they pretty much looked the same - hairstyles have changed, and some lost weight, or gained a couple of pounds from babies, but really, they looked the same.
And the cutest guy in the class? Well, he's still cute. He still has his hair, but it's gone all white now. He still has the build of the football player he once was, and has the scar on his arm from the sports-related accident he had our senior year.
We've lost one classmate to death, in a grain elevator accident. Another one might be in trouble with the law, but nobody has heard from him in a few years. Amongst my former classmates there was an accountant, finance director in a plastic manufacturing company, farmers, truck drivers, window manufacturing workers, housewives, teachers, and rancher.
Someone said that our class was nothing special, but that was okay. I beg to differ - almost all of us survived , and several of our classmates have had 20 or 30 year marriages, with kids and grandkids to show for it. And while no one was rich or famous, we all seemed happy...at least for one special night in the park 30 years after high school.
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