by Roy Exum
posted May 21, 2008
 Roy Exum |
Suffice it to say the ultra-liberal from Massachusetts has hardly been one of my favorites and I believe that deal with Mary Jo Kopechne, where he drove her off the Chappaquiddick bridge in 1969, has resulted in a “life sentence of misery” for the guy.
Just the same, something inside of me cried out when I heard he had been diagnosed with brain cancer Tuesday and, late in the afternoon, I thought how cool it would have been if Jon Lester, the pitcher for Kennedy’s beloved Red Sox who hurled a no-hitter on Monday night, could have shown up at Massachusetts General Hospital yesterday.
Get this scene: Teddy is propped up on pillows when Lester, a cancer survivor, walks in and, from the foot of the bed, tosses him a baseball.
“That ball was used in the ninth inning last night. When you get antsy in the days ahead, squeeze it real tight because it – like you – still has some magic left.”
So, yeah, I believe the senator still has some magic left, and, as I read reams of stories about him early this morning, I was further softened by the way he’s been the family patriarch – been there for Jack’s and Bobby’s kids as well as his own – after his brothers were killed trying to make this world better for us.
Teddy has a tumor in the upper left part of his brain. Dependent on which expert you read – and there are many doctors who suddenly have voice – the 76-year-old icon has between one and five years of life expectancy. It is called a malignant glioma and it occurs in about 9,000 adults in the United States every year.
I found out a long time ago that medical percentages don’t apply to some people. If somebody told me there was an 80 percent chance I would die from this or that, I’d tell ‘em to cut off a bigger slice of the cake. All I want is about a five percent edge because, with just a little wiggle room, I can get through anything. All I want is a chance.
Teddy has proven even better as a fighter. When I marvel at how the people of Boston and the rest of the commonwealth can elect such a scamp, those in Massachusetts have taken great pride and joy in his sometimes zany actions and his often-preposterous voting record.
Yesterday his wife Vicki sent out an e-mail that told how the senator is making everybody laugh and is about to drive the doctors nuts to release him so he can prepare for this weekend’s “Figawi,” which is the annual sailing race from Cape Cod to Nantucket.
"Teddy is leading us all, as usual, with his calm approach to getting the best information possible," her email said.
And so, as a huge crush of media scrambles to find boats to accompany the youngest of nine children of Joe and Rose on this weekend’s sailing adventure, you recall that this guy has cheated the Grim Reaper several times before.
There is a whale of a story about a plane crash in 1964 where the pilot and one of Sen. Kennedy’s aides were killed. Teddy was actually pulled from the wreckage by Birch Bayh, a senator from Indiana, and was in really sad shape for awhile with broken ribs, internal bleeding and a horrible back.
But far greater is the endless timeline of family tragedy, be it from an assassin’s gun or like that 1999 plane crash that killed John Jr. and his wife. Through it all, Teddy has been the one who has shepherded the Kennedy flock, and, like all those who have big families, that is special to me.
So here I am, sitting with the Lord and my coffee, and suddenly I am asking God to be merciful, to go easy on this old warrior known best as simply “Teddy” because he has already shed far more tears than the rest of us.
Right now it is Teddy Kennedy himself who needs a little nudge, you know, and I pray Your Will be done.
royexum@aol.com
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