Confession From Beyond
Jed looked at the
envelope that Mrs. Landingham's lawyer had just handed him. He took it silently and walked towards the
Oval Office alone.
The will had just been
read in the Roosevelt Room. There were
no surprises. Having left behind no
heirs she had divided her assets among those who meant the most to her.
To Charlie and Deena she
left her house and enough money for both of them to attend college.
She left small mementos
to each of the members of the senior staff and the assistants.
The rest of her money was
given to her favorite charities.
To Jed she left her
crystal cookie jar with the stipulation that he always keep it filled and that
he didn't eat all the cookies himself.
That part of the will gave everyone something to smile about.
Jed heard her lawyer
talking to Leo as he left the room. He
went to his office and sat at his desk, propping up the letter against his
coffee mug. It was just a regular
envelope with Jed Bartlet written across the front in the neat, precise
handwriting of Dolores Landingham.
He turned it over in his
hands a few times, dropped it back on the desk, picked up again, put it back
down and finally stood up and walked to her desk. He carefully picked up the cookie jar and
brought it back to the Oval Office. He
put it on the bookshelf.
Running a hand through
his hair his picked up the letter again as he sat back down and put his feet on
the desk. He pulled his glasses out of
his shirt pocket and put them on. With
trembling hands he tore open the letter and unfolded it. It was just two pieces of pale green paper
filled with neat, familiar handwriting.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
May 2000
Dear Jed,
I'm not quite sure why
I'm writing this. But I do know, that if
you are reading this, something has happened to me.
I am writing this in the
hospital waiting room. I left your room
a little while ago. You were being as
stubborn as usual and giving Abbey a hard time about staying in bed. You wanted to be there when Josh came out of
the anesthesia. Due to some
unpresidential whining on your part she let you go with Leo to the recovery
room. The patience Abbey has with you is
amazing. I imagine it would have to be
to stay married for over 30 years.
Anyway, there is a point
to this letter. I realize just how close
you came to dying last night and there are a few things you need to know. Things I need to tell you and things I would
rather not say face to face.
When I first met you, I
thought you were just another spoiled rich kid. That opinion lasted about as
long as it took for you to open your mouth.
Within days I saw the real Jed Bartlet.
A caring, articulate young man, intent on changing the world. You were then, and still are kind,
compassionate and too smart for your own good.
Stop rolling your eyes.
I watched you struggle
for years to break free from your father's grasp. And when you did you became a new
person. There was nothing holding you
back. I guess now would be a good time to let you know that I have always been
proud of you. Sure, you do dumb things
from time to time and I feel like smacking you for them but all in all I am
proud to consider myself your big sister.
Over the past few years I
know you've been keeping something from me.
It's not important how I found out but I did. I think I understand why you didn't tell
me. I've convinced myself that I
shouldn't take your decision not to tell me personally. But at this point, I guess that doesn't
really matter.
Rest assured that I take
your secret with me. I will say that I
found out on my own. Nobody came out and
told me. I never let on that I knew.
I can only imagine the
additional doubts and worries that this causes you to carry around on a regular
basis. As if being President doesn't
cause enough worries. I know you carry doubts about your ability to lead the
country, doubts about your future in the party, about your future in general.
Worries about what others will think.
I'm going to give you a bit of advice, wanted or not. If you haven't already done so, please, go
public. Telling the world may not be the
best move politically but like it or not, there is more to your life than
politics.
I know you worry about
what people think about you, how they perceive you. I know you believe that politics is
perception. And maybe it is. But every
once in a while you have to do something just because you feel it is right. You don't have to be perfect, in anyone's
eyes. Let's face it, you never will be. None of us will ever be as perfect as
angels.
But as Albert Schweitzer
once said, "A man does not have to be an angel in order to be a
saint."
That pretty much sums
what I want you to remember. That and
eat your vegetables.
Seriously, you're a good
man, Josiah Bartlet. And my life has
been richer for knowing you. I know that
whatever life throws at you, you will rise up to the challenge and emerge
victorious. Whether your victories are
political or personal know that I will always be there to share them with you,
my little brother.
Love Always,
Dolores
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jed read the letter
twice, folded it back up and stuck it in his pocket. He reached for the tissues and pulled himself
together in time to rise up to meet the next challenge of the day.
THE END
