My Brother's Keeper: The Real Legacy of Sen. Edward Kennedy

As I sat watching the funeral service for Sen. Edward "Ted" Kennedy, this past Saturday it was hard not to notice or realize just how powerful a man he really was. For nearly a half-century in the Senate, Kennedy was a steadfast champion of the working class and the poor, a powerful voice on health care, civil rights, and war and peace. And while most commentators point to his legislative achievements, which included bills to provide health insurance for poor children, the Americans with Disabilities Act, and abortion clinic access, these are not the things for which I will remember him most. To me, these are not his greatest accomplishments nor are they the source of his greatest legacy.

As a mom, for me, that honor lies in the role he played as a surrogate fathers in the lives of his nieces and nephews after the death of his slain brothers. One of the TV specials I saw on his life highlighted how he played that role with dignity and grace and noted that he walked every one of his father-less nieces down the aisle at their weddings when the time came. Ted called them "his girls" and that he "took care" of 17 kids (his kids plus those of his brothers Robert and JFK) by being there for every graduation, every wedding, and many other of the kids's special events. When you think about it, I'm sure it was a lot of pressure and responsibility. A role, I'm certain, he wished he didn't have to play but one where he willingly stepped up to the plate.

I recall a quote from Joseph Kennedy III who stated that: "Every single one of my brothers and sisters needed a father, and we gained one through Uncle Teddy. He went on to state: "For so many of us, we just needed someone to hang onto, and Teddy was always there."

I hate to say it and I'm sure some will disagree but nowadays, many men don't recognize how critical a role they could play in the lives of children, and many certainly wouldn't step up in the way that Sen. Kennedy did. Nowadays, any involvement, under similar circumstances, is often left to visits at family gatherings or the occasional chats. And although this isn't intended to be disparaging of the many men who play active roles in the lives of their children and our youth, the truth is it's a struggle to get some men (yes I'm generalizing) to be involved in the lives of their own children. Asking them to serve as a surrogate father for the other children in their family, their neighborhoods or those just in need of some type of male support is out of the question. It's a shame that this is the case and that the role of fathers and fatherhood or the sense of responsibility to ones family and others doesn't take on the prominence or importance that Sen. Kennedy accorded it.

So when I hear commentators, pundits and others talk about the contribution of Sen. Kennedy and how his death represents the end of an era. I concur. But it's not the role of legislative icon or lion of the Senate. Rather, it is the role of true patriarch and father figure. You see, Sen. Kennedy understood both figuratively and literally what it meant to be your brother's keeper. He understood what it meant to care for others and to recognize that our fate, growth, development and success in life is directly intertwined with that of our fellow man whether we are related by blood or not.

But many others don't. The truth is our society encourages the subjugation of the needs of the village to an individual's own needs, desires and wants. While this in general is not a problem, as a whole it has lessened the need for us to understand how we benefit as a collective unit. In some cases, it has resulted in a lot of young boys trying to chart a course on their own without much success, or without any father figure, whether blood relative or not, to offer love or guidance.

Perhaps, Sen. Kennedy's legacy and greatest lesson to us can be seen in the letter written by Jacqueline Kennedy to Sen. Kennedy after he walked her daughter Caroline down the aisle after her wedding. The letter - a token of gratitude for what he'd meant to all the Kennedys over the years. The letter read, "There have been 17 children besides your own - Bobby's, Pat's, Jack's and mine, for whom you have always been there. Every graduation, every big decision, every trouble, every sad and even every happy day. On you, the carefree youngest brother, fell a burden a hero would beg to be spared. Sick parents, lost children, desolate wives. You are a hero. Everyone is going to make it, because you are always there with your love. Jackie."

Perhaps I'm simplifying too much but imagine how many other fatherless children could make it if more men or, any of us for that matter, stepped up, showed them our love and became our brother's keeper.