On Mary Kennedy

For those of us who've been around for awhile, the news of another tragic, untimely Kennedy death was no surprise.  We know the drill: initial news reports of something awful, an explanatory family statement, a gathering of the family and other famous people at a New England church, and handsome children as pall bearers--bearing weight beyond their years.  What are we to make of this?

When something happens repeatedly, I believe we're meant to take notice.  Many of these deaths have been the direct result of mental illness and its twin sister substance abuse, or these have been implicated in the deceased's life story.  The so-called "Kennedy Curse" is the unspoken scourge in far too many American families.

Here we are in the 21st century with smart bombs and smart phones and smart boards to take your breath away.  Yet when it comes to treating severe mental illness, we are no farther along than our Elizabethan ancestors were.  Macbeth's lament for his wife's madness could be spoken by many today:

"Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased,
Pluck from that memory a rooted sorrow,
Raze out the written troubles of the brain,
And with some sweet oblivious antidote
Cleanse the stuffed bosom of that perilous stuff
Which weighs upon the heart?"

The answer in too many cases is still "no."

Perhaps if we addressed mental illness with the same intensity that we give warfare and technology, we could offer patients more hope.  Instead, the doctor's response in the play--"Therein the patient must minister to himself"--is still often what happens today.  And as Mary Kennedy reminds us, this is unacceptable.