Children aren't supposed to beat their parents to the grave.

         To me, that's one of the saddest components to the Tim Russert story.    The NBC News/Washington Bureau Chief died of an apparent heart attack while at work (where else?) Friday.      He's gone way too soon--Russert was only 58--and his death creates a huge void at the top of the NBC news gathering apparatus.     

         While it's way too early for Russert to leave this mortal coil, he had what I'm sure even he would admit was a pretty full life: raised from modest Buffalo, New York roots, he became a player at Washington's highest levels.    He met celebrities, power brokers, presidents, even the Pope.      Russert did what he loved, and wasn't afraid to tell anyone within earshot about it.     More than one of his fellow talking heads Friday night told stories about how excited Russert was to BE Tim Russert, how much he loved working long and late to break a story.    

       And, he loved being a father, as well as a son.

       Colleagues have their own stories about a Russert "dad" moment--how he lived for his son Luke, and respected his own father, "Big Russ".       Russert wrote one book about his childhood and his relationship with his dad, and a second one full of letters from others describing their fathers.     

        In a time where the obit is already written for the modern family, Tim Russert reminded all of us that a normal home life could still be maintained despite a hectic schedule and a full professional life.       He took the time to be with his boy, and to check in with his father back in Buffalo.      Russert knew what was important, and shared what he learned with all of us.

       This is a time where many confuse "echo chambers" with journalism: there are too many of us who don't care to hear both sides of an issue, who only want to hear their own slant parroted by a columnist or talk show host.     To these people, anyone who challenges their thought pattern must be one of "them": either a member of the leftist elite media or a right-wing crackpot.       The media does nothing to fix this by cranking out more and more opinionated "journalists", knowing that they draw a crowd (and thus, money).      I've said it before and I'll say it again: the media isn't blue or red--it's green.      We don't do slant, we do money.    

       Russert remained above that.      He wasn't the only one asking hard, unbiased questions of Republicans and Democrats.      Russert was just one of the most visible.      And now, he's gone.

        There's never a good time for such a thing to happen, but somewhere in Buffalo, New York it's going to be the saddest Father's Day ever for a man made famous by his kid's work.    "Big Russ" has to make funeral arrangements for a son who loved and respected him beyond comprehension.      It's a relationship that used to be standard operating procedure in many an American family.      Now, its notable because it's something too many of us could only dream of.

         I took Tom Brokaw's advice Friday night--at the end of his NBC special about his friend Tim, Brokaw suggested we all have a cold one for Russert.       I did, and then talked with my family about our relationship, our role, our country.       Corny?      Probably.     Necessary?     I thought so.      Our lives don't allow much time for those moments.      Russert reminds us, from beyond the grave, that we have an obligation to make time for them.     

      Tim Russert's body of work as a journalist won't be forgotten.     His message to all of us, as parents, sons and daughters, shouldn't be ignored.       It's a way we can make him live a little longer.      It's a chance to make our own lives better, before it's too late.       Russert left us way too early.       This Father's Day, and each day that follows, gives us all a chance to get it right.