Epilogue
Joe and I were honored to attend Tatiana’s funeral.
I knew the sorrow Caroline would feel every day for the rest of her life and wondered if in the course of the cancer treatment Caroline believed that a miracle would happen and her daughter would live.
You never give up that hope. As a mother, you can’t.
Caroline seemed so strong as she held her granddaugther, Josie, in her arms during the service.
She possesses a quiet strength just like her mother, Jackie.
Many people from our political universe attended.
As the priest encouraged those in attendance to share the sign of peace, Joe walked two pews behind us and held out his hand to Nancy Pelosi.
I instinctively knew what was happening without even turning around.
Peace.
Let’s be friends.
They hugged and she kissed him on the cheek.
Old-school. Both of them. Putting the past behind them. One of Joe’s greatest assets is his ability to forgive. I admire that about him.
The priest gave the final blessing. Jon Batiste stepped onto the altar with his harmonica to play “When the Saints Go Marching In.”
Silence.
Sadness blanketed the congregation.
We moved slowly out of the church, returning to our lives.
I’m hoping this year will be better than the last. While Joe might have some health challenges ahead, the doctors say that he is strong, that he will live out his natural life.
As Dylan Thomas wrote, we will not go gentle into that good night, but rage, rage against the dying of the light.
So together we continue to rage against the dying light—fighting for democracy, battling cancer, working on women’s health, building a presidential center, and spending time with our grandchildren.
For as long as we can do this work, we will, and we will do it with the deepest gratitude for our family, for this country, for the opportunities we have been given, and for each other’s love. We are blessed.