Chapter 2
Were we ready to return to public life?
The choice felt heavy. Joe had always wanted to be president, but he’d begun to wonder if his time had passed.
If he ran, I knew there would be a cost to our family.
I did not particularly want to invite scrutiny, especially at a time when the kids and grandkids had been through so much.
Another question was Joe’s age. He would be seventy-eight when he took the oath of office. There was a lot to think about.
Bush let them be photographed together, and Simpson said, “George, I am not unmindful as to what you are doing. You are propping up your old wounded-duck pal. While you’re at the top of your game, you reach out to me while I’m tangled in rich controversy and taking my lumps.” Bush’s reply: “Yep.”
George H. W. Bush’s son, former president George W.
Bush, said, “At age ninety, George H. W. Bush parachuted out of an aircraft and landed on the grounds of St. Ann’s by the Sea in Kennebunkport, Maine, the church where his mom was married and where he worshipped often.
Mother liked to say he chose the location just in case the chute didn’t open.
” He paired the joke with a touching observation that his father “recognized that serving others enriched the giver’s soul. ” This was something Joe believed, too.
Jenna Bush Hager gave a reading from the book of Revelation, and on the way back to her seat from the pulpit, she gently touched her grandfather’s casket—a moving gesture of respect and affection that brought tears to my eyes.
As the assembled dignitaries listened to the eulogies, I caught some of them glancing over at Joe. I knew what they were thinking: Would he enter the race for president?
“Let’s go have lunch,” I suggested as we came out of the cathedral.
“Okay,” Joe said. His aide Richard drove us in our black Suburban the ten minutes to BlackSalt restaurant, one of our date-night staples. The timing felt right. I knew the presidency was on both our minds.
“Chardonnay, please,” I said.
Joe said, “I’ll have a Diet Coke.”
Before we’d even looked at the menu, I said: “This is it, Joe. You have to make up your mind. Are you going to run or not?”
“Yes, I want to run,” he told me, matter-of-factly.
At last, clarity.
“Okay,” I said. I would have responded the same way if he’d said he was going to quit politics.
The waiter came back. I ordered fish and french fries.
Joe ordered a hamburger, as he typically does even at seafood restaurants.
And that was the end of the conversation.
It was that simple. That’s how we’ve always communicated on the important questions.
We get straight to the point. The more it matters, the more efficient we tend to be.
And this—possibly the most important conversation of our lives—was less than a minute long.
Eventually, we would gather as a family to discuss the election, but big decisions had to be Joe’s alone—and this was the biggest decision of all.
I’ve always let Joe steer his own ship, as he has always let me steer mine.
We’ve always made a point of not second-guessing each other.
That doesn’t mean we’ve never disagreed, but we trust each other.
Supporting the other’s visions—and for a man of his generation, Joe was hugely supportive of my work and my independence—has been one of the great gifts of my marriage and my life.
I was relieved he’d finally decided. Privately, I also felt in my heart that he’d made the right decision. I knew he felt called to serve at the highest possible level. I wanted it for him, and I wanted it for the country. I thought he would make an exceptional president.
Joe officially declared his candidacy on April 25, 2019, via video. I arrived for class at NOVA that day thinking, My husband just announced that he’s running for president of the United States today and here I am teaching writing. It felt a little surreal.
A few weeks later, I would stand beside him, wearing a jacket with the word love emblazoned on the back, at the Eakins Oval near the Philadelphia Museum of Art as he spoke about the soul of the nation—but from that moment at BlackSalt, I knew that we were in the race.
I felt anxious about what it would mean for all of us, but I also felt that we were ready.