When I heard about Senator Graham’s death last night, the first thing I thought about was not all the things he said and did in service of Donald Trump. I thought of the time before Donald Trump when he was a brother to Senator John McCain.
A time when senators from different parties could fight about politics and still be friends. A time when a conservative Republican from South Carolina could say of my father: “If you can’t admire Joe Biden as a person, you’ve got a problem. He’s the nicest person I’ve ever met in politics. As good a man as God ever created.”
That is the Senator Graham I will remember today. Not because I have forgotten what came after. Because in that memory there is hope. Hope for a country where brothers can fight like hell over policy and still share a meal, and a laugh, and the loss of the people they love.
I will choose to remember the time before Trump. Because I believe in an America after Trump.
🚨SUMMER SIXERS JERSEY GIVEAWAY🚨
With Sixers Summer League starting tonight, let’s giveaway a Lebaron Philon Jr. jersey of your choice!
To win:
1) Like & Retweet
2) Follow @JoshReynolds24
Winner selected tomorrow! Good luck! Go Sixers!
***IMPORTANT***
Winner will NOT be DM’d from any other account & will NOT be asked to fill out a form. These are scam accounts pretending to be me. I will DM you from my account congratulating you & asking for details.
The Lessons I Learned from My Dad
I am not the man my father is.
I am trying. Some days closer. Some days farther.
He never sat me down and explained these lessons. He lived them. I’m still learning them.
Show up.
The kitchen table. The hospital room. The funeral. The picket line. The call from the son who won’t answer.
Show up.
Most days that’s the whole job.
My whole life I watched him do it. Not for cameras. Not for headlines. Not because there was something in it for him. He showed up because someone needed him.
I learned that grief doesn’t make you special.
My father buried a wife and daughter. He buried a son. Yet he never treated grief as a claim on other people’s sympathy. Instead, it made him notice theirs.
A mother who lost a child. A father sitting beside a hospital bed. A kid scared about what comes next. A son who lost his mother, his sister, his brother.
He always noticed.
I learned that power is not the point.
The people who chase power eventually confuse the office with themselves.
My father never did.
Whether he was a county councilman, a senator, vice president, or president, he was the same man.
The title changed.
He didn’t.
I learned that family comes first.
The train from Wilmington wasn’t symbolism.
It was every night.
He read to us. Showed up to games. Sat through hospital rooms. Waited up for children who were lost.
And when the day came that the country and the family could not both have him at full strength, he chose family. He relinquished the last chapter of how he wanted to be remembered. And he never complained about it.
Most of all, I learned that love is not soft.
Love is discipline.
Love is showing up at one in the morning when nobody is watching.
Love is answering the phone.
Love is staying.
Love is getting back up after life knocks you down and doing it all again tomorrow.
That love saved my life.
I’ve failed at many of these lessons, sometimes in very public ways.
He loved me anyway.
That’s the last lesson.
I am not trying to become my father.
I am trying to carry what he gave me.
And if I can do that, even imperfectly, that will be enough.
Happy Father’s Day, Dad. I love you.
@JoshReynolds24@notthefakeSVP Thanks for sharing this. I felt a deep sadness when I first heard about his brother’s passing. A reminder that we are all people first, with lives and families and most of all, emotions. This was well done.
To celebrate an improbable seventh game between the Philadelphia 76ers and the Boston Celtics, let's do another contest. Follow and retweet to have a chance to get a copy of “Moses and the Doctor” along with the Dr J and Moses cards we made for the publication.