“History at its best is about telling stories. Stories about people who lived before, about events in the past that create the contours of the present. By studying the lives of others, we hope that we - the living - can learn from their struggles and their triumphs… We have lost the art of letter writing, the discipline of keeping a diary, but as Tim showed, we have not lost the capacity for talking; for sitting around a simple table and conversing - in a civil and illuminating fashion about the most important issues of the day… ”
–Doris Kearns Goodwin, Historian, author of Team of Rivals, as delivered at the memorial service for Tim Russert
June 18th, 2008
Yesterday my Uncle Tom died. He was 90.
My Uncle Tom was something special. He’s the kind of guy who just by being himself makes his great niece walk just a little taller, aim just a little higher.
Tom was the last of four brothers, who grew up to be - in order of their birth - a Methodist minister (as was their father), a pediatrician, another pediatrician and an obstetrician (Tom).
Uncle Tom was a son of the South, as was my grandpa - though long since transplanted to care for the children in an Ohio mill town, an Ohio mill town which has long since died.
Tom was the last brother. He was the most amazing husband, steadily loving and caring for his aging wife with Alzheimer’s.
Miriam.
Even with Alzheimer’s, Miriam is such an amazing lady. Warm, welcoming, even though she forgets who you are.
Miriam and Tom were the beautiful people - you know… the kind who would rightfully sit a bit above the rest of us regular folks… well-educated, well-heeled, well-paid. Gorgeous.
They didn’t. They were the salt of the earth.
Uncle Tom, as far as I know, was a lifelong Republican. So was my grandpa, who died long before Republicans and Democrats seemed to so hate each other.
My grandpa would have never hated me.
I believe my grandpa and his doctor-brothers all felt that they were taking care of the children and babies in their towns just-fine-thank-you-no-need-for-government-here.
Knowing Tom, Ken (brother 3) and my grandpa, I’m betting they were right.
I’m a lifelong Democrat.
I never talked to Tom about politics. Frankly, it just didn’t matter. Lots of things mattered a whole lot more.
About a zillion years ago my boyfriend-almost-husband found himself with a dead car on the top of a suspension bridge two states away from me. We called Uncle Tom who, obstetric practice and all, drove to the top of the bridge and rescued my husband.
You know how busy obstetricians are?
In his last letter to me, Great Uncle Tom thanked my husband for “taking my nephew fishing all the time… and bringing him back again.”
So, if you’re a Democrat like me and you’re inclined to hate Republicans, you’re going to have to do it without me.
Because the Republican you hate might just be like my Uncle Tom, whose absence today makes the world more than just a little bit less.
June 12th, 2008
Today is my parents’ 50th wedding anniversary. A lot has changed since September 7, 1957, not the least of which is I wasn’t around at all back then and now I’m not so very far from hitting 50 years myself. Between then and now my parents have built a life around each other and their three children. There has never been a moment since when they were not there for us. (Wow, they must be tired.) They’ve got three happy productive adult children to show for it (who have three marriages that seem to have stuck) and four spectacular grandchildren. And, best yet, they’re in Paris at this moment celebrating. They done good.
1957 - a year when Dwight Eisenhower took his second term, Elvis Presley bought Graceland, American Bandstand premiered, Dr. Seuss published Cat in the Hat and (of great family significance) North Carolina beat Kansas in triple overtimes to win the NCAA Men’s Basketball Championship.
For most of the years of their marriage, it was the family joke on election day when my parents dutifully went to the polls “I’m going to go cancel out your dad’s/mom’s vote”. But they stayed married, go figure. I doubt if political party was even discussed seriously between them before they married - rather common dreams & values, a focus on family and a dedication to community and country. Almost 50 years later, my daughter wanted to date a fine young man. They almost never even considered it because they were of different political persuasions.
A lot can change in 50 years.
I know my parents are concerned with some of those changes, particularly in our civic and political landscape. In honor of their 50 years of marriage and their lives of service to this country (and out of respect for not making this day’s post about much else other than them) I will be starting a blog feature: “50 years.” Every once in a while, it’s worth a constructive look back. (Think we should deep six the “walked 2 miles to school in the snow uphill both ways” posts?)
Stay tuned.
And Happy Anniversary Mom & Dad. We love you.
September 7th, 2007
