Today, I drove to a remote state park, which gave me some quiet, peaceful time to process the surprise of Senator Lindsey Graham’s sudden death.
I struggle with the hazards of my profession, especially the tendency to turn death and illness into content. I want to treat others, including public, powerful figures, with dignity in this era of algorithmic media.
Senator Graham lived an extraordinary life by any measure. For a period of my life, his plainspokenness, depth of knowledge, and friendship with Senator John McCain endeared him to me. In 2017, he joined a large club of people who’ve made decisions that I don’t think I’ll ever understand.
My intention is not to conduct an accounting of his life. It is to consider his death.
Senator Graham is the third member of Congress to die in 2026. He is the sixth member of the 119th Congress to die in office. These members ranged in age from 65 to 80. Sixty-one of our 100 current senators are Baby Boomers, and 6 are members of the Silent Generation.
Countless deeply-researched articles explore how America is aging, and that is especially obvious in our governmental leadership. We know the public is weary of incumbents who refuse to retire. We know that younger generations feel they have more than waited their turn to govern. But I don’t think we’re prepared for all of the death coming our way.
Last week, as the Mitch McConnell discourse reached a fever-pitch, I popped on Instagram to say that I thought the internet had lost its mind. From the far right to the far left and everywhere in between, I saw speculation that he was “literally dead” or being kept on life support to game Kentucky’s special election rules. I thought it was absurd (not least because of speculation that McConnell’s people wanted to prevent Rep. Thomas Massie from running in a special election. There’s no love lost there, but anyone who knows anything about Kentucky politics knows that Rep. Massie wouldn’t have a chance statewide. That’s too-much-cable-news thinking). I also thought it was gross. Demanding “proof of life” from elected officials who have said they’re hospitalized is, I think, a bridge too far, whether you’re a commentator or a governor.
The Senate has been in recess. Senator McConnell had already announced his intention to retire. His successor will be elected in November. He owed the public greater transparency than he provided until today. Still, the outcry has been disproportionate to the impact of his absence.
And I think that shows that we aren’t ready for everything that’s ahead of us.
In my limited time online today, I’ve seen all manner of speculation about how Senator Graham died. It has ranged from reasonable questions to the bizarre. I know it has always been so—that when there are gaps in information, we fill them with our imaginations; that when public figures die suddenly, we cope with wild theories. Still, I keep thinking: we’re not ready. This will only accelerate.
I imagine today that so many of Senator Graham’s contemporaries have felt an intense ache. In my life, I notice that however I feel about a person, becoming aware that someone my age has suddenly died hits me hard. Senator Graham was 71, had just made an international trip, and was scheduled to be on Meet the Press this morning. When I learned that he died, I gasped, and I quickly started thinking about the ages of people I love, wondering how much time we have left with each other, reflecting on how we never really know.
Just this weekend, my sister and I were talking about our beloved Grandmother Joy and how we admired the friendships she sustained as she aged. The only problem for her, we remembered, is that her friends were all quite a bit older than her. She watched them go, one by one. It was very hard for her.
If I could talk to her right now, I think she’d tell me that we all need to talk about death more. I can almost hear her voice saying, “it will come and it will come and it will come.” It is here, now. However the universal ledger balances for Senator Graham’s life, I hope this sudden ending can facilitate more peace with more endings for all of us in the long run.
Death is a conversation we don’t have often enough. I’ve been surrounded by elders since I was 22, driving a wheelchair van for the Waukesha County Department of Aging in Wisconsin. I now am one at 69 next week.
My wife is 74 with dementia, my 4 remaining siblings are 63 to 72. Lost a brother last year, he was 64. My wife’s and my weekly breakfast group has had 4 die in the 14 years we’ve been meeting. At 96, 91, 88, and one last month at 85. We now run from 68 to 88 with me the baby of the group. And boy do they enjoy teasing me about that ;-)
Death is something I have been able to discuss since losing our mother at 53 in 1984. It has brought me wonderful friends of all ages, grateful that they could have a conversation that their parents, children, friends or family members could not. For something unavoidable we are all very much in denial. I have learned so much from them all. But probably the most important thing is to truly appreciate the time I have with everyone I know. Being deeply present with my people of all ages. It also really changes where you are willing to put your time and attention. The connections we share are the point of life. Nothing else we have created as humans matters anywhere near as much. No wealth, no job, no possessions hold what that connection brings us. And being honest about death brings that home.
Xennial here and I find that my friends and I talk about death and planning quite often. Mostly because we are burying our baby boomer parents. We pack up 3 and 4 bedroom homes our parents kept till their death and remark on how we give most of their things away. We hold on to what’s important, old photos, my grandmothers cookie jar, my father’s pocket knife, etc.
Most of us married and had kids in our 20s.
Most of us plan to retire young - 55 to 62.
Most of us plan to sell our big houses and get smaller places with less upkeep so we can travel.
I think the tide of working till death is changing. At least for myself and husband it is.