The Kennedys

I'm watching Teddy's burial at Arlington Cemetery on TV and it seems so surreal. Teddy's really dead? Really?

I know, a bunch of rich, white men. Still, throughout my life, when someone criticized Ted Kennedy, I'd say, as a half-joke, "Don't talk to me like that; I'm from Massachusetts." I guess I'm not opposed to political dynasties if they do good, socio-political work. And for the last few days I've tried to explain to Harper the significance of losing Teddy. I simplify; he was an imperfect man, but he fought his whole life for oppressed people, so he was a hero. Okay, this is an oversimplification, but it is also true. And if you're a rich, white guy, it's right and correct to use your privilege in this way.

I bet many kids who grew up in Massachusetts feel a special connection to the Kennedys. My parents divorced when I was four years old, and I remember many car rides with my mom, traveling from Lexington to the south shore on a Friday night. She would keep me entertained with a story, often a story about the Kennedys. About the day JFK was killed, about how Joe died in the war, about the disabled sister, Rosemary, about Chappaquiddick and everything else. And somehow, I think Bobby was our favorite.

Today we watched pieces of the funeral and burial, while cooking and playing and doing other things. My mom knows who all those people are! And what they all do for a living and what are their contributions and what are their shames. I'm proud of my mom's expertise (she really could teach a college class on the Kennedys), and I'm proud to be from Massachusetts, the state Teddy represented since before I was born. Rest in peace.