Like everyone else in Massachusetts (and many elsewhere), I'm thinking about Senator Kennedy and the fragmentary anecdotes that his name evokes.
I keep thinking about this one "common man" story from my very dear friend, K, whose hubby, B, used to field calls from the high and mighty on a regular basis. One time they were here for dinner and the mayor of Boston called looking for him.
The incident I'm thinking of didn't involve my phone but it did involve K and B's. B was not home when the phone rang; K answered. "Hi," the man said, "this is Ted Kennedy. Is B there?"
"Oh, hi, Ted," K said, not realizing in that split second who it was, then became quite flustered at her lack of respect. She muttered about, explaining that B wasn't there.
"Ted" wasn't the least bit flustered. "Well, K, tell him to call anytime up to 9 PM," he said. "Vicki and I turn off the phone in the bedroom and we won't hear it."
Sweet and normal. I hope the treatments are not too onerous and that all who love him have the chance to express their love wildly and completely.