Edward Kennedy, A Belated Eulogy

The black umbrellas made me cry. Seen from above they were anonymous circles of grief, each representing the private feeling of an unseen human beneath them, maybe you, maybe me. Other eyes were focused on the flag draped casket but while it was centermost, I could think of nothing but the rain falling on the overlapping black disks. Someone on face book this week said they wish they could fast forward through all the bad parts of life. I did not comment because it was useless to explain to her why tears are just as important as laughter. If we had the remote control of life in hand it would be too tempting. We would never grow, never change and life would have no meaning.

You will all have your own private opinions about Edward Kennedy, the youngest child of an illustrious high profile family. I do not seek to change anyone's mind about him or his family. You can think them heros or villains as you will and argue either side with equal weight of evidence, but if anyone had reason to want the bad times to move faster, he had the right. He was a man made by circumstance from Chappaquiddick to his good bye to his brother Robert at the funeral in 68. He, the youngest, was left to bear the heavy responsibility of carrying out all the visions of his three dead brothers.  He stood firm and worked hard with a humility that was not typical of the Kennedy clan and at the end he was braver than I think I could have ever been.

I left this post for so long because I could not find the picture of the umbrellas. Now time has marched on and it seems his beloved Massachusetts has turned away. I wonder how long it will be before another ambitious Kennedy steps up to try and fill Ted's shoes?