The sucker punch of Tim Russert's death

Whew … it has been quite the week. I am exhausted by the waves of emotions I have felt. My psyche has been pummeled; it´s been washed, vigorously spun, mightily wrung out and, then, like a stone in need of polishing, it has been tossed into the giant tumbler to emerge in its new form.

What started all of this? The unexpected news of the death of journalist and "Meet the Press" host, Tim Russert created the moment when I inadvertently, and momentarily, stopped breathing. Like the rest of the viewing world, I was shocked and saddened. This felt like a sucker punch to the gut.

And I wanted to know understand this. It all felt so incomprehensible. He was only 58. I needed time and facts to absorb the incredulity of this news.

So, like most of the viewing public, these past days have found me frequently in front of the television, listening and re-listening to the loop of details, memories and reactions. The repetition of the news has slowly given way to the reality of Russert´s passing; the facts have dropped like lead weights into my cerebrum. There is no turning back; his death is a certainty.

Let me be clear: I did not know Tim Russert personally, but there was something about him that made me feel a kinship with him. Like much of the country, I felt like I knew him.

Russert possessed that unique quality of the Everyman. He seemed familiar, comfortable and approachable. Be it his Lands´ End navy blue blazers, his unabashed love of family and country, his enthusiastic support of the Buffalo Bills and his devotion to his faith, this man showed and shared his authentic self.

We trusted him, this man of the media. And that, unto itself, is a rare event in today´s glib world of sound bites, spin and corporate vested interests.

Educated by the Jesuits, Russert understood the value of intellectual rigor, and he knew how to listen. And he knew how to think, analyze and offer an illuminated perspective.

Russert was a gentleman; he handled himself and others with respect, civility and good humor. They say that nice guys finish last, but Russert proved that maxim wrong. He was a true-blue, decent man.

Russert´s death struck a collective nerve. Here was a man who managed to connect with so many of us, simply because he was himself.

He was seen as a beacon of reason amidst the presidential election firestorm. He was bridge among dissenting opinions and divergent tactics. And Russert was an intelligent voice in a world that often appears unthinking and unconscious.

Russert represented the best of American values – hard working, full of integrity and imbued with a pioneering spirit. His sudden death has left us reeling.

I heard that the actor, George Clooney, sent flowers to the Russert family with a card that read, "There are no words." George has a point. However, my gym has a saying painted on the wall that seems to sum up Tim Russert. It reads: "Power is not revealed by striking hard or by striking often, but by striking true."

Russert did just that: he struck true.

And it is that trueness that makes so many of us feel as if we have lost a very good friend. His loss feels personal, and it feels close.

Almost too close.

Death is a fine-tuned focuser of life. Death, literally and figuratively, stops us in our tracks. We readjust the lenses of our personal viewfinders. We begin to look anew, and we begin to look more carefully. We are reminded that life, and, in particular, our loved ones, are precious.

As Russert proved, our time is not guaranteed. We have this moment.

Tim Russert was a happy man, full of passions and enthusiasms. He reminded me of a little boy, I once knew, who had a very wise mother. On rainy days, she dressed him in his duck-yellow rain gear, and they went outside for the sole purpose of jumping – both feet – in rain puddles. The little boy would howl with glee. Russert seemed like that to me, both feet in and full of delight.

In the five days following the announcement of Russert´s death, I have learned of two close friends, both within spitting distance of Russert´s age and equally vibrant, being tested for a possible heart attack and stroke. Two others, both in exceedingly good health and with excellent lifestyle habits, were hospitalized for possible heart attacks. Another died suddenly over the weekend.

Like Russert´s death, this gives me pause. It is feeling very close. Mortality is at hand, and the reality is confirmed over and over again that we are all too human.

What are we to do?

I think we take a page from Tim Russert´s book. I think we live life fully, happily, deep in gratitude and awash in enthusiasm. I suggest we walk with integrity, speak our truth and treat one another with kindness.

And, no doubt, Russert is scoping out the new terrain and will be able to bring us all up to speed when it is our turn to make the shift to the other side. He will have the inside skinny and help us make sense of what comes next.

Until then, Mr. Russert, thank you for your light. You made a huge difference, and you will be missed.

copyright 2008 by Adele Ryan McDowell