āThere is only one radical means of sanctifying human lives. Not armored plating, or tanks, or planes, or concrete fortifications. The one radical solution is peace.ā - Yitzhak Rabin, remarks at Nobel Prize for Peace award ceremony, 1994
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. Iām still learning them.
Show up.
The kitchen table. The hospital room. The funeral. The picket line. The call from the son who wonāt answer.
Show up.
Most days thatās 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 doesnāt make you special.
My father buried a wife and daughter. He buried a son. Yet he never treated grief as a claim on other peopleās 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 didnāt.
I learned that family comes first.
The train from Wilmington wasnāt 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.
Iāve failed at many of these lessons, sometimes in very public ways.
He loved me anyway.
Thatās 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 Fatherās Day, Dad. I love you.
@WillRasky Itās legit 85% tartan here in the bleachers at a minimum. Itās amazing! Iām directly sitting over the Sox pen, and they were all watching in awe during the half inning.
$100 billion. Thatās our estimate of the cost of the Iran War to American households. Thatās nearly $750 per household. This includes the additional U.S. military costs and the higher energy and other prices resulting from the war. This is a big economic blow, but deficit-financed tax cuts have cushioned it. Until now. As of May 16th, the bigger tax refunds Americans have received this year no longer cover the higher costs of gasoline, diesel, and jet fuel caused by the war. The financial pressure is thus mounting quickly, particularly on already hard-pressed middle and lower-income households. With the saving rate about as low as it ever goes, unless the war ends soon and energy prices come down, they will have little choice but to rein in their spending, weighing further on the already sagging economy.
the tattoo Platner got years ago is very bad.
if there are any present-day signs in his life or campaign that he actually sympathizes with Nazis or is motivated by antisemitism, that would be disqualifying.
are there?
Generation after generation, men and women put on the uniform knowing the risk ā and went anyway knowing they might not come home. Knowing their families would carry that for the rest of their lives.
To the families still carrying that weight ā I see you. The pain doesnāt go away, but neither does the pride.
Freedom has never been guaranteed. It has to be earned, defended, and sometimes paid for in the hardest way imaginable. Today on Memorial Day, we stop, we slow down, and we remember those who did.
We honor them.
We thank them.
And we work hard to live up to what they died for. Keep the democracy they believed in worth believing in. That is the ultimate tribute for their sacrifice.
When I represented Massachusettsā 4th District, I had extraordinarily big shoes to fill.
Barney Frank was fearless, brilliant, and one of the great public servants of our time. He reminded us that politics is ultimately about what we owe one another ā and he said it better than anyone: āGovernment is simply the name we give to the things we choose to do together.ā
Grateful for his leadership, his example, and his lasting legacy.
Sending prayers to his husband, Jim.