Senator Kennedy came to my family’s house to see my stepfather, Kirk Scharfenberg, when he was dying of cancer. My stepfather, was the editor of the editorial page at the Boston Globe and they had met a few times. My family is large, 6 kids, and our house is a big old Victorian in Dorchester, Massachusetts. Our furniture was made up mostly of yard sale treasures and my mom’s innovation. Senator Kennedy and his wife, my mother and most of the kids went to sit with Kirk in the front room which is bright and round. Kennedy sat in the saddest of all the chairs. It was a decrepit rocking chair that had a bum arm, which instantly came off in the Senator’s hand. For the rest of the visit, he used it to gesture with, and when he was ready to leave, he placed it carefully back where it had been. He was not afraid of the grief and certainty of sadness that we all knew was coming. He sat with us. We were grateful.
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