Ted Kennedy: Redemption Song

The work goes on; the cause endures; the hope still lives; and the dream shall never die. --Edward Moore Kenneday, U.S. Senator, (D) Massachusetts; August 12, 1980, Democratic National Convention.

There is so much I could say about this "Lion of the Senate" -- this lion of a man. With apologies to C.S. Lewis who died the same day as JFK, Edward Moore Kennedy was not a tame lion. Not our boy-o. His sins have received more than due coverage throughout his life, so I will not speak of them here. We are fallible creatures; we all fall short. Ted, our Teddy, always regained his footing and his standing, and humbled but never bowed, he forged on to fight the good fight.

It is with deep sorrow that I offer my condolences to the Senator's entire family and his many friends. You are in my thoughts and prayers. To his widow, Victoria Reggie Kennedy I will say: once he grasped the hand of you, his better angel -- his better angels won. Thank you for that, ma'am. Thank you for giving him back to his family and to us all, better than he was before.

Because that is the real story of Edward Moore Kennedy, politician and man: while Teddy's sins were emblematic of our societal ills, his aching heart was -- is -- part of our shared lore -- this mortal life -- this groaning creation. His pain and suffering, his bleeding heart (I write those words in their best sense, with pride and gratitude), is where we recognized him, knew him, loved him, forgave him, and it is where he would meet us time and again, encouraging us to follow him once more into the breach. The triumph of the Kennedy family has always been more than balanced by tragedy's icy fist, and this tied them to us and ties us to them still -- in ways better mediated on than spoken. This morning on MSNBC, Doris Kearns Goodwin, echoing Hemingway, commented of the tragedy of the Kennedy family and the sorrows, sins and renaissance of the Senator in particular, saying: "He was stronger in the broken places."

Senator Kennedy's life's work in the U.S. Senate made us likewise. Heathcare, workers rights, civil rights, voting rights, the rights of the mentally ill, the disabled, the downtrodden, the oppressed -- Kennedy never forgot who put him in office and never stopped fighting for them -- for us -- for you -- for me. Even in the worst of his playboy years, his privilege and prestige never blinded him to the causes of his heart -- ensuring that all Americans were afforded the blessings of liberty that shine ever bright on our all too often dark and troubled heads. This man -- who mourned too much and too often -- never doubted those blessings. No matter how pervasive the darkness seemed, he believed in the Light of the World, even when his view was obscured, by sorrow or his own short-comings.

On that same day the LORD told Moses, "Go up into the Abarim Range to Mount Nebo in Moab, across from Jericho, and view Canaan, the land I am giving the Israelites as their own possession. There on the mountain that you have climbed you will die and be gathered to your people, just as your brother Aaron died on Mount Hor and was gathered to his people. This is because both of you broke faith with me in the presence of the Israelites at the waters of Meribah Kadesh in the Desert of Zin and because you did not uphold my holiness among the Israelites. Therefore, you will see the land only from a distance; you will not enter the land I am giving to the people of Israel." Deuteronomy 32:48-52 (NIV) "The Death of Moses"

Ah, how I had hoped and prayed you would live to see true heathcare reform come to pass, but like the great Lawgiver before you, you were only allowed to look down upon the Promised Land to which you spent your life leading us. Our shared faith gives me hope that this morning, sir, you have already walked into the arms of our Lord and your family, and not just forgiven, but redeemed.

So today, dear Senator, I thank you. I thank you for living your life fully and completely. I thank you for your failures as well as your victories. I thank you for the convictions you learned at your mother's knee and on your own often-scuffed knees in your Mother Church, during both your worst trials and greatest hours. You represented the people of this Commonwealth and served the people of this nation and the world -- with passion, compassion, humor, ingenuity, and an utter lack of cynicism -- with a lasting belief that giving the best in us is best for us.

I do not think I will see another like you in my lifetime, but I hope my children will, and that in some way, my fondness and admiration for you and your self-sacrificing service will influence them to follow, in whatever way our Lord has laid out for them, in the best of your footsteps. Thank you, sir. God bless you. Much has been and undoubtedly will be made of your fondness for wine, women and song, so tonight, this woman -- whose life and world is better thanks to you -- will raise her cup and sing to your memory.


Emancipate yourselves from mental slavery.

None but ourselves can free our minds.
Have no fear for atomic energy,
cause none of them can stop the time.
How long shall they kill our prophets,
While we stand aside and look?
Some say it's just a part of it:
We've got to fulfill the book.

Won't you help to sing
These songs of freedom?
'Cause all I ever have...
Redemption songs.
Redemption songs.
Redemption songs. (--Bob Marley)

She's Moving On; I'm Stuck

I wrote the following the night before my daughter, Julia, entered Kindergarten. Tomorrow is her last day in elementary school. Middle School begins with grade 5 in our town. We're attending her "Moving On" ceremony, and I'm still trying to grasp how we got here from...


(Here -- i.e. September 6, 2004)

Half of what I say is meaningless
But I say it just to reach you, Julia

Six Septembers ago, you tried to come too soon. Oh, it wasn't six years to this day. Things don't work out so neatly in real life, but it was six years ago this month.

You were not due until November 19, 1998. What got into you, that September? Why were you so determined to get out of me? Could you not stand the wait? Did you decide you were ready? You were not, dear. But oh, how very like you, lovely one.

Daddy put me in the car took me to the hospital.
The hospital took one look at me, and put me to bed.
They kept me over night.
They kept you in my womb.
They sent me home the next day.
Nana and Daddy sent me directly to the couch.
They fussed over me.

Daddy did everything: laundry, cleaning, bathing Benjamin, playing with him. Even Benjamin seemed to understand (not like, mind you, just understand) that I could no longer pick him up. I explained to him. Daddy explained to him. Nana did better. She taught him to climb on his bed, so that I could change him, there. She showed him how to climb into and out of his highchair. When he needed me to pick him up, instead I would sit down, and he would crawl into my lap, finding a way around my belly--finding a way around you.

Julia, Julia, oceanchild, calls me
So I sing a song of love, Julia
Julia, seashell eyes, windy smile, calls me
So I sing a song of love, Julia

They poured water into me, until I floated. They took the doctor's orders seriously. I did too. I saw the humor in the contradictions, though:

Drink more water than humanly possible. Then, drink some more. And when you can lie down, lie down. When you can't lie down, sit. When you can't sit, sit anyhow. And yes, I know you have a two and a half year old little boy, and what a cruel joke these orders must seem. You're going to follow them though, right?

Yes. I am just not sure I know how.

Sure you do. You'll figure out a way to deal with Ben. Put up gates. Lock doors. Drag out the crayons. Put on the TV. LIE DOWN.

It's got a good beat, but can I dance to it?

Ha! My wife scoffs at my orders whenever I tell her about a patient in your situation. She says, "Are you going to watch the toddlers for her?"

I like your wife.

I do, too. Still your daughter needs eight more weeks in there, understand?

Hey, tell her.

And we can't accept anything less than four. Understand?

Yes.

So, lie down.

Well, maybe if I wasn't drinking so much water. Benjamin aside, I'm not going to get much time lying down, if I'm drinking water. You may not have noticed, but...I'm rather pregnant.

Aha! I suspected as much. But listen, we're not going to accept anything less than that four weeks. We'll get you through the next four weeks,and then she can come anytime she wants, and we'll be ready for her. Eight would be better though. Shoot for eight, okay?

And dear one, I, who had been waiting for you for as long as I could remember, never did mange to be ready for you. I'm still not.

You calmed down. My uterus calmed down. I never did. Cat on a hot tin roof. Bird on a wire. Butter scraped over too much bread. You were a dream about to come to true. I had to believe. So many dreams turn into nightmares. I was afraid to believe.

Her hair of floating sky is shimmering, glimmering
In the sun

We decided we needed to get serious about choosing your name. Don't worry, love. Julia has been your name since I was old enough to imagine you. I wanted to name you Alice though, for my Nana. Daddy was afraid it was too old fashioned. We also liked Emily, Emma, and Olivia. One late September evening, we discussed it with Benjamin. He was so little. You will never know that little boy. His world was different. He was the only one. You will never believe this, but he could not wait for you to come, either. In the end, Julia Alice, Benjamin decided in favor of your name, every bit as much as Daddy and I. Then we put on the CD. The three of us held hands. The doctor never did answer my question about dancing. And so our little circle of love slowly danced around the living room in our old house, with you in the middle. John Lennon sang your name.

Julia, Julia, morning moon, touch me
So I sing a song of love, Julia

John's beautiful song, of course, is about trying to recapture that which has been lost. The mother he never had enough of. The dream that came upon him. The dream that faded as quickly as it came. But dear, that is what babies are, even the healthiest, strongest babies, like you and your brothers. Even the best parents fake it. As soon as we get used to one stage, you move onto the next. By the time we figure that out, you'll have moved on again. We run behind, and try to do our best to protect you. We intentionally lag behind sometimes too, so that we won't stunt you.

When I cannot sing my heart
I can only speak my mind, Julia

After all that worry, you were late in coming. The nineteenth of November, 1998 came and went with nary a pang. Wednesday, November 25, 1998, Nana took me (and Benjamin) to my regularly scheduled ob/gyn visit. He examined me and said, "Well, that was a lot of worry for nothing. You must have made things too comfortable in there. How would you like to have this baby, today?"

I said, "No," as Nana said, "Yes." I am sure the doctor did not want his Thanksgiving dinner interrupted. I did not want to rush you. I knew, just knew, that it would all go too fast. They overruled me. Nana and I went home to pack my bag. Daddy came to take me to the hospital, and Nana stayed with Benjamin. I can still see him sitting in his highchair, coloring. I can still feel the little pang of guilt over my involvement in ending his babyhood.

Now you are going to kindergarten. Tomorrow. All summer long, Daddy has been telling you that he is not going to let you go. Trying on my role for your teen years, I take your side. I tell you not to worry, that he does not mean it. In my heart though, I betray you. I wish to God that Daddy had the power to slow it down.

We have already gotten time with you that most parents do not get with their children. Since you had not turned five by the end of August 2003, you were too young to enter kindergarten last Fall. It did not matter that you would turn five before the year was up. That is not how it was when I was little. It still is not like that in some towns.

Some people thought I was crazy. They thought I should have had you screened and then petitioned to let you get in early. I never bothered to find out if our town allows such a thing. Why would I? A whole extra year with you? Why in God's name would I ever give that up? Extra time with you. Why would I refuse such a blessing?

This year, Auntie Sherri reminded me that Auntie Susan had been in the same position with Jennifer. Although in their town, Jennifer could not enter kindergarten because she hadn't turned five before it started, the next year, she could still enter first grade, provided she tested well. Everyone was sure you would test well. I was, too. Again, I never even found out if such a thing was possible.

You are mine. For at least 12 years and two months, and three weeks (minus two days) more, as far as the law is concerned, you are mine. Since you will stay in high school (and my lovely one, you will) I have at least twelve years and nine months. I will start to wean myself when you go to college (you will). I will learn my boundaries by the time you begin your career. If you get married, by that time, I will teach myself to pretend my heart does not think it owns you. I will fool the world. If you choose to have your own babies, I will love them for whomever they are.

And I will help you, if you want it, when you need it.

I will kiss them, hold them, rock them.

I will never tell them, but sometimes, I will close my eyes rub my lips along their hairline, and pretend they are you. Just for a moment.

Julia, sleeping sand, silent cloud, touch me
So I sing a song of love, Julia

Go to kindergarten. Go, but remember you are not in your senior year of high school. You will get there soon enough, love. Look how quickly you got over being a baby, being a toddler, even being a little girl. Strangers routinely assume you are a year or two older than you are. You have no touch of baby left about you, on the outside, anyhow. They do not know your heart. Where your brain and your hunger--your drive to move so quickly--chill me to the bone, your baby soft heart warms me, gives me a hold on you, gives me hope.

When Christopher was born you were so little, still a baby yourself. You're just one year, and five months (minus one day) older than he. You had seen him when you visited us in the hospital, and seemed interested, and not threatened. The day we brought Christopher home from the hospital, when I carried him into the parlor, you shook your head, "No."

After I have to leave you tomorrow, I will do the same.

... calls me
So I sing a song of love for Julia, Julia, Julia

For me now, John's beautiful song, of course, is about trying to recapture that which has been lost. The baby I never had enough of. The dream that came upon me. You have not faded. The dream that is you, is more vibrant than ever. But in the end, it will not be mine.

Except in my heart.

TWoP Stuff

This entry is a Note To Self. It's a list of my recaps published on TWoP thus far:

Temporary Gigs:

Eureka, episode 3-6, "Phased and Confused": What's The Frequency, Kenneth? (substituting for Sara Morrison)

Pushing Daisies, episode 2-2, "Circus Circus": Clowining Around (substituting for Allison Lowe)

Supernatural, episodes 4-2 through 4-10 (substituting for Demian)


Regular Assignments:

How I Met Your Mother, beginning with episode 4-1, and continuing

Lost, beginning with episode 5-1, and continuing

Cupid, beginning with episode 1-1 (on March 24, 2009) and continuing

In That Chair

The resemblance between Dick Cheney and Mr. Potter is utterly striking.

I Love This Report Card Day

Everyone got a good report card this trimester. We have to sign and return them (and aren't given a copy), so I'm making note of these to remind me, in case there are lean years ahead. Yesterday, my two youngest children brought home their report cards. They get A B C grades for performance, and numerical grades for effort (with "1" being the best).

Daughter's Grades:

English: A-; 1
Reading: A-; 1
Spelling: B; 1 (fair enough; tests are perfect, spelling on papers is...not)
Math: A-; 1
Social Studies: A; 1
Science: A-; 1
Handwriting: A; 1

Follows Directions: 1
Works well independently: 1
Completes work in reasonable time: 1
Uses independent time wisely: 1
Demonstrates courteous and considerate behavior: 1
Conduct: 1
Homework: 1
Art: 1
Music: 1
Physical Education: 1

Younger Son's Grades:

English: A; 1
Reading: A; 1
Spelling: A; 1
Math: A; 1
Social Studies: A-; 1
Science: A-; 1
Handwriting: B; 2 (it's a fair cop)

Follows Directions: 1
Works well independently: 1 (this is a big improvement)
Completes work in reasonable time: 1 (as is this)
Uses independent time wisely: 1 (this floored me)
Demonstrates courteous and considerate behavior: 1
Conduct: 1
Homework: 1
Art: 2 (also a fair cop)
Music: 1
Physical Education: 1


Oldest son got his report card, today. He gets A B C grades for performance, and numerical grades for effort and conduct, and the teachers can include (canned) comments, too.

Oldest Son's Grades:

English: A-; 1; 1. Pleasure to have in class. Good solid student.
Social Studies; A-; 1; 1. Good overall student.
Pre-Algebra: A-; 1; 1. Pleasure to have in class.
Science: A-; 1; 1. Very good participation. Good overall student.
Spanish: A-; 1; 1. Cooperative. Considerate. Courteous.
Computer: B+; 1; 1. Cooperative. Considerate. Courteous.
Consumer Science: A; 1; 1. Good effort.
Physical Education: A; 1; 1. Pleasure to have in class.

All three children are a little bummed out they didn't make straight As. Scott and I are thrilled and proud of them though. Oldest son is particularly annoyed that his computer class is what kept him from straight As. He can't figure out why he didn't get an A. I told him if he thinks it's a mistake to approach the teacher after school (the class was only a half term long) and ask her why, because sometimes they make mistakes, but otherwise to let it go. A B+ is just fine, and his effort and conduct earned him a 1, which means as much to me as the achievement.

I think we'll have to get them a little reward for these report cards. They worked quite hard this term. Go kids!

Go School! It's your birthday!

Stranded In The Drive-Way

Stranded in the driveway
Branded a fool.
What will they say
At Sunday School?

Scotty, can't you see
I have no Camry key.
We had a talk,
But then you balked.
There's no car left for me.

The Saturn's flown,
All alone...with Boolie,
I wonder why-yi-yi
Oh why you left me
The Camry.

Oh Scotty -- baby -- someday
We'll get a second key.
Somehow, someway
A Camry key for me.

Together forever
And ever will we be
As soon as we get
A new key.

Scotty, my darling,
You stranded me real bad, you know it's true.
But baby, you gotta believe me
When I say -- I'm ride-less without you.

The Saturn's flown,
All alone...with Boolie,
I wonder why-yi-yi
Oh why you left me
Oh, Scotty.
Scotty! Scotty!
Why-yi-yi-yi?

Oh, Scotty.

Read My Eureka Recap at Television Without Pity & More

I substituted for the talented Sara Morrison as the Eureka recapper, for episode 3-6, "Phased and Confused," at Television Without Pity. Please give it a read. It went live yesterday, but there were some errors that needed to be fixed, so I felt funny linking to it. The next episode has already aired now though, and all but two of the errors have been fixed now (there's a little bit of word salad in the first paragraph of page 3; and a broken link on page 6 -- and the editor e-mailed me this morning to say she'll take care of them), so I figured it's now or never, as far as promotion goes.

If you're a fan of Eureka, you can and should read Sara's recaps, each week. I also did a Eureka-based staff write up for TWoP's annual Tubey awards. You can find my "Most Memorable Moment" entry in TWoP's Telefile Blog, here. It's the second item on the first page and continues to the next.

Starting next week, I will be writing what TWoP refers to as "weecaps" for the CBS series How I Met Your Mother. If you're unfamiliar with TWoP-speak, weecaps are shorter (2,500-ish words) summaries -- published the morning after an episode airs. Generally, they're the TWoP treatment of choice for sitcoms and reality programming. Hour long dramas usually get a "recaplet" (500-ish words) the morning after broadcast, and a full recap (5,000+ words) within a week of airing.

Television Without Pity's motto is "Spare the snark; spoil the networks," so don't expect glory, laud, and honor. We pick because we can. I'm fortunate, because I love both Eureka and How I Met Your mother, so it's a joy to send them up, rather than a chore. Just because I love them though, doesn't mean I won't mock them mercilessly when they deserve it. And let's face it. This is TV. They always deserve it.