Following the news of Senator Kennedy’s diagnosis, the reactions are predictably swift and sure, respectful and concerned. As they should be.
Oddly enough, I was at a high-school groundbreaking ceremony just this morning, where my son had the honor of introducing videotaped messages from none other than Sen. Kennedy and his son Patrick, a U.S. Congressman from Rhode Island.
Several months ago, when we started planning for this event — designed to kick-off renovations enabled by the first capital campaign in the school’s 40-year history — we had hoped one or both of the Congressional Kennedys could be there in person.
Granted, it was a lot to hope for — but then, the school was named after John, the late president, Ted’s brother and Patrick’s uncle, and it was founded in that fateful, fearful year of 1968.
Unfortunately, the demands of the Senate and House — plus the travel time required to appear at a high school in a state where neither Kennedy counts a constituent — combined to dash our (admittedly tenuous) odds for in-person appearances.
Regardless, both men were gracious enough to pause their cluttered calendars and tape tailored messages of congratulations and encouragement to the school community.
After the groundbreaking ceremony, I returned to the office and read of Sen. Kennedy’s diagnosis. An unavoidable and uninvited chill meandered up my back and across my shoulders — sparked, I assume, by the whirling and mixing of multiple images and thoughts: of the Senator’s aging face on the DVD; of his younger face next to his brothers’ faces, in a photo standing on the school stage, similar to the photo above; of my son introducing the video; of my son’s anticipated high-school graduation later this week, where he officially closes one chapter in his life and starts another.
For these and other reasons, our family will long remember and be grateful for the time the Senator took to be a part of this brief moment in our lives and the lives of others attached to a small high school in suburban St. Louis. And when we stop to say prayers tonight for the Senator and his family, our entreaties will be lined with an added sense of familiarity, no matter how peripheral or fleeting it might have been.