He Didn’t Quit

Pain is temporary. It may last a minute, or an hour, or a day, or a year, but eventually it will subside and something else will take its place. If I quit, however, it lasts forever. Lance Armstrong

Edward Kennedy’s passing last week prompted some surprising reflections for me.

Like most of my generation, I grew up with the Kennedy mystique. I stared in childish wonder at the grainy black-and-white images of John’s funeral, and glared with teenage anger and disillusionment at Bobby’s. Interesting that I feel like I’m on a first-name basis with these historic siblings, but Jack and Bobby were integral figures in shaping my perspective.

Ted was a different story, the rebellious youngest brother who seemed to squander privilege and position in a litany of bad choices and selfish, destructive, childish antics. I never felt the urge to refer to him as though we were close friends, and I certainly didn’t admire him as I did his older brothers. I recall with shame that I wondered why he had to be the one that survived.

I wouldn’t choose Ted Kennedy as a role model. I’ve learned enough about the world to know that I probably wouldn’t select any politician for that position. The revelations of time have even stained my childhood memories of Bobby and John and Jackie and Camelot, and I’ve discovered the painful reality that public figures usually aren’t what they appear to be. Politicians, athletes, and entertainers are people with faults, ambitions, and blind spots, just like the rest of us.

But despite his many faults, I do appreciate one thing about Ted Kennedy: he didn’t quit. He endured the trauma of watching two brothers murdered on television and survived other private and public tragedies of his own design, and he didn’t quit. He could have faded into obscurity and lived in quiet luxury and leisure. He could have surrendered to regret and despair over wasted opportunity.

He didn’t quit.

I didn’t agree with many of Senator Kennedy’s political positions, and I didn’t approve of some of his personal choices. But I must honestly acknowledge that if the private details of my own life were exposed and dissected, the results wouldn’t present a picture worthy of emulation. I’m grateful for second and third chances, for undeserved forgiveness that’s allowed me to overcome errors and bad decisions. Grace offered me a number of new beginnings I didn’t earn; I’m called to extend that same grace to others.

Senator Kennedy bounced back from adversity and did his best to move forward to a better future. He wasn’t the hero his political admirers imagine nor the villain his detractors portray. He was a man who endured and didn’t quit.

Rather than glorifying his accomplishments or demonizing his failures, I choose to seek something positive and real from which I can learn. I find encouragement in the fact that he fought through difficult experiences, overcame mistakes, and still found a way to serve and contribute.

You don’t have to like Senator Kennedy or his politics. But perhaps you can admire the fact that he didn’t quit.

Most people give up just when they’re about to achieve success. They quit on the one yard line. They give up at the last minute of the game, one foot from a winning touchdown. Ross Perot

What’s your take on public personalities and their failings?