Frozen in time

I hope your week is going well. Made the trip to Minneapolis a week ago, got Madison moved in, celebrated Persephone's first birthday and had a nice visit with Lindsay and Thomas. It was a bit easier to leave Madison off for her second year of college.

A bit.

I'm working on it.

While we were gone, Mass. Senator Ted Kennedy died at the age of 77 after battling brain cancer. Before you go jumping all over me, I want to explain that I would like to talk about brothers, not politics, with this column.

August 20 marked the 30th anniversary of the death of my older brother, John. He was 21, I was 18. He was electrocuted in a construction accident. His death caused significant and permanent damage to my parents and my family. Parents should never outlive their children.

I have photos of John. He was athletic, I was not. He was a carpenter, I barely passed woodshop. He lived his life in a different circle than I did, so we had little common ground.

But he was a good brother.

I used his example of looking out for siblings as a lesson to my daughters. When I was a freshman and John a senior, there was a sophomore that decided to pick on me. John and the bully were both on the football squad. In fact, they scrimmaged against each other at practice. During practice, John sent a not-so-subtle message to the bully that if he messed with me, he messed with John.

I was not bothered again.

Ask my daughters about "the rule" and they will recite in monotone rote: "treat your sister the way that you want to be treated." Lindsay, the older of the two, also learned to look out for her younger sister, something she continues to do today.

That's what siblings do, they look out for each other.

It is a difficult thing to leave a sibling behind, frozen in time. Six years ago, I had lived twice as long as John. I often wonder what he would have like, where he would have lived, how things would have been different if he had lived.

But, like so many other things in life, I have learned that there are no answers to these questions, at least not while we are alive.

I believe that Ted Kennedy understood this as well. His three brothers died young: Joe at age 29, John at age 46, and Bobby at age 43. Ted lived to a relatively old age of 77. His brothers were frozen in time, with two killed by assassins. The family was famous and infamous, depending on your politics.

Regular readers of my column will recall that there were more photos of John Kennedy in my parent's home than there were photos of family members. Being the first Catholic president and a charismatic fellow to boot, he was popular, to say the least, at my house. Bobby the same way, only with fewer photos.

Ah, but Teddy had the misfortune of being the youngest and not being the most discrete. Mary Jo Kopechne and the bridge at Chappaquiddick Island ended whatever presidential ambitions Kennedy may have had.

In fact, I believe he never really wanted to be president. But what do you do when your two older brothers have sought the office and been murdered? Can you imagine the pressure to carry on the family name?

No, Ted had the misfortune of living. I also believe had they lived, in time, that the indiscretions of his father and two older siblings would have come to light. Since they died young, much of the scandal has died with them. Sure, it surfaces every now and then, we all love a juicy tale of the rich and powerful, but then it goes away.

They remain young and vibrant, while we carry on.

We have no choice.

As always, I welcome your comments. You can reach me by email at tstangl@lemarscomm.net, telephone 712-546-7031, x40 or toll free 1-800-728-0066 x40.

Thanks for reading, I'll keep in touch. Feel free to do the same.