Goodbye, Sen. Kennedy

I didn't have a chance to say farewell to Senator Ted Kennedy during his final voyage through Boston last week, as I was away with my family. But my heart sank when I heard the news of his death, and I flashed back to the handful of times I met the longtime Massachusetts democrat when he came to Harvard or Dana-Farber Cancer Institute (my workplaces) to speak or receive/present an honor.

Kennedy was a study in contrasts: A powerful and prolific legislator who also found time to mentor a third-grade girl by reading to her. A man of privilege –- as a New York Times reporter stated perfectly –- who lifted the lives of so many underprivileged citizens. A celebrity who was also a profoundly family man.

I realized this when I interviewed his son Ted Kennedy Jr. in 2001 for a story about his childhood cancer experience. Ted recounted how his dad accompanied him to appointments at Dana-Farber and Children's Hospital Boston in the early '70s, flying up to provide support during the 12-year-old's grueling treatments. And as so many mourners heard during the funeral last week, Ted Sr. taught his son that he could do anything he wanted, despite his artificial leg. Ted's eulogy is a loving, insightful, and beautifully crafted goodbye to a man of many passions who demonstrated the importance of empathy, adventure, and resilience. If you haven't yet, I encourage you to read it. Here's an excerpt about Senator Kennedy's final days:

"At the end of his life, my dad returned home. He died at the place he loved more than any other, Cape Cod. The last months of my dad's life were not sad or terrifying, but full -- filled with profound experiences, a series of moments more precious than I could have imagined.

He taught me more about humility, vulnerability and courage than he had taught me in my whole life.

Although he lived a full and complete life by any measure, the fact is, he wasn't done. He still had work to do. He was so proud of where we had recently come as a nation. And although I do grieve for what might have been, for what he might have helped us accomplish, I pray today that we can set aside this sadness and instead celebrate all that he was and did and stood for.

I will try to live up to the high standard that my father set for all of us when he said, "The work goes on; the cause endures; the hope still lives; and the dream shall never die."

I love you, dad. I always will. And I miss you already."

Consider this . . .

A eulogy can help lessen grief by sharing memories and values imparted by the person who has died.

Comments

[me.yahoo.com/a/.BF0YrMQs4NWuF86gN0aSAA1_BP3]

He left work to be done. Sen. Kennedy had his life's work, health care reform, ahead of him but was called.

He didn't stop working or living and wait to die, he left work undone.

My mother went into hospice about 49 weeks ago, her decision not to have more surgeries or chemo. She was not supposed to live two days and lasted two weeks. We all flew out to see her and spend some time.

We had a falling out a year before, I think she was angry the cancer recurred and needed someone convenient to blame. It was me, eldest daughter and only one married so I have support at home.

The palliative care doctor she'd had in hospital headed this hospice. He and his staff were beyond wonderful. Granted I was losing a parent at the time. But the day after she died I called the nursing station and commended them on their efforts to keep Mom clean, comfortable and allow us to be with her except when she was being bathed. They would have easily set up a bed so we could stay overnight.

My first foray into this realm, I know it won't be my last and I will assure that my husband and I have all our paperwork in order, which my mother did not do.

I will try to assure that my husband's parents have theirs as well (they flew out to visit this week and his mom is a VA nurse so hopefully that will be done.

I've had enough of doctors "saving" every patient no matter the consequences. In this country, my dog and cats have been treated better in hospital. When I decide living will equal suffering, I hold them while the vet does the humane thing.

My mother had to choose the humane option for herself. Luckily she was cogent to make the decision because otherwise the legalities would have been daunting.

Rest in peace, Mom. We tried to do everything we could to make sure your few last wishes were carried out. Thank goodness your caretakers were thoughtful, kind and loving people who treated you well in your final days.

Sincerely,
Dee C.

[saulwizz]

I listened to the funeral while driving back from the Cape, and almost intersected with his funeral procession as it left the church enroute to the airport. I cried when I heard Ted Jr's speech and knew instantly it would be the one everybody remembered. Senator Kennedy was not a perfect man, as his son was quick to mention, but to a 12-year-old boy who wanted to give up he was the perfect dad. My earliest vivid recollection of the senator was when I saw the images on TV and in the papers of him being taunted by South Boston residents during the busing crisis of 1974-75. he had a look on his face that said "This is a hell of a mess we're in, but I'm not budging in my beliefs." (During this same period, the credo "Bus Teddy" was spray-painted on the sidewalk in front of the JFK birthplace in Brookline) Many will debate the merits of his actions then and at other points, but he was always true to his convictions. I was just a second-grader but it made a big impression on me. And over the next 35 years, he left many more.