Amending The Congressional Accountability Act Of 1995
Madam President, it is probably no surprise for my colleagues to know that I don't like much the idea of a farewell speech. I haven't spent a great deal of time contemplating it over the years I have been here. I am not a big fan of the…
Madam President, it is probably no surprise for my colleagues to know that I don't like much the idea of a farewell speech. I haven't spent a great deal of time contemplating it over the years I have been here. I am not a big fan of the concept. But I want to respect the tradition, especially since I have witnessed so many Senate traditions crumble over the last 12 years. So I will do my best to get through this without breaking up.
A traditional farewell speech in the U.S. Senate is full of accomplishments and thanks. I am going to skip half of that. I am extremely proud of my body of work over 34 years of public service, but it is for others to judge, and I won't dwell on it today, other than to say it is a long list and a tangible demonstration of the value of hard work.
The wonderful Barbara Bush said: ``Never lose sight of the fact that the most important yardstick of your success will be how you treat other people--your family, friends, and coworkers, and even strangers you meet along the way.''
So rather than talk about what I have done, I want to speak a few moments about my family, and I have three different families I want to talk about today: my actual family, my family I like to call Missouri, or ``Missouri''--we argue about it a lot--and my family here in the Senate.
First, my actual family--because they are the most important. In the words of author Andre Maurois, ``without a family, man, alone in the world, trembles with the cold.'' I have been very warm my whole life. I have not ``trembled'' in the cold because I have always had my family.
My parents taught me that caring about the community around us was noble and good and that holding public office was an honorable endeavor, even though my parents were largely spectators and supporters and not candidates or officeholders. They just cared, and they wanted me to care too.
At the risk of going down the road of too many family stories, it may explain a lot that my dad fell in love with my mom when he saw her smoking a cigar and belting out, ``Won't you come home, Bill Bailey,'' at a party; that my mother said I must say ``trick or treat'' and vote for JFK when I was 7; and that my father insisted that I not only learn the rules of football but that I also learn to tell a good joke and learn to laugh at myself.
My siblings. My two sisters and my brother have simply been the port in every storm.
My children. We have a large, blended family of many children and grandchildren that is close and loving. I adore them all, but I need to specifically mention my three children--Austin, Maddie, and Lily-- because they were there from the beginning--infants in car seats going to political events, toddlers sitting sometimes not so quietly as I gave a speech, and, then, amazing troopers in the almost decade of my career when I was a single working mom, hauling them all over the State on campaigns. They now have forgiven me for the missed recitals and the missed field trips and the fact that I couldn't be the homeroom mom. Today, they have grown into amazing, strong adults who make me very proud.
And yee howdy, those grandchildren--I have 11, going on 12. I can't wait until they are all old enough to yell at them what my mom used to say to us when we were dawdling and too slow in getting to the car: ``Last one in is a Republican.''
My husband, Joseph--how lucky I am to have him as my best friend. We were married 16 years ago, after I was well into my political career and after he had achieved great success in business. He is proud and supportive of me always, but he certainly didn't bargain for the incredibly unfair treatment we got at his expense because of his business success. Let the record of the Senate now say what my Republican colleagues did not during my campaigns: Thank you, Joseph, for your integrity, your honesty, your generosity, and your heart, which has always directed you to do good, as you do well.
Then there is my Missouri family. I love my State--all of it, every corner
of it, even the parts that aren't very crazy about me. My honor to work for Missourians has been immense. I am incredibly grateful to them for the opportunity I have had to get up every day and work my heart out in an interesting, challenging career of public service, and so lucky to have made many, many good friends along the way. I am excited that I will now have more time for them.
David Stier said: ``Family means no one gets left behind or forgotten,'' and that is how I feel about Missouri. That is why my office has tried very hard to help every individual who has come to us for help, every veteran who has needed assistance, every senior caught in Social Security redtape--no matter who they were or where they lived or what their politics were.
Then there is my staff family--my staff, here and in Missouri, in this job, in my previous jobs, and in many, many campaigns
Richard Bach said it best: ``The bond that links your true family is not one of blood, but of respect and joy in each other's life.'' They have been my rock, my compass, my inspiration, and my coach--the best and the brightest, looking not for money or fame but just to make a difference.
To my Senate staff here today and watching and to all the staff in my offices of the prosecutor's office, the auditor's office, the county legislature, and the State legislature, I respect each of you immensely. As you go forth in the world, remember the McCaskill office motto--they could cite it for you right now if I asked them: If you work hard, you can do well. But if you are having fun, you will do great.
We were happy, and it made a difference. George Bernard Shaw said: ``A happy family is but an earlier heaven.'' Working with my staff was heaven.
Finally, to all my fellow Senators and all of the many people who work here in the Senate, I would be lying if I didn't say I was worried about this place. It just doesn't work as well as it used to. The Senate has been so enjoyable for me, but I must admit that it puts the ``fun'' in dysfunction.
Peter Morgan, an author, said: ``No family is complete without an embarrassing uncle.'' We have too many embarrassing uncles in the U.S. Senate and lots of embarrassing stuff. The U.S. Senate is no longer the world's greatest deliberative body, and everybody needs to quit saying it until we recover from this period of polarization and the fear of the political consequences of tough votes. Writing legislation behind closed doors, giant omnibus bills that most don't know what is in them, K Street lobbyists knowing about the tax bill managers' package before even Senators--that is today's Senate--and no amendments.
Solving the toughest problems will not happen without tough votes. We can talk about the toughest problems, we can visit about them, we can argue about them, we can campaign on them, but we are not going to solve them without tough votes. It will not happen. My first year in the Senate was 2007. We voted on 306 amendments in 2007. This year, as of yesterday, we have voted on 36. That is a remarkable difference. Something is broken, and if we don't have the strength to look in the mirror and fix it, the American people are going to grow more and more cynical, and they might do something crazy like elect a reality TV-star President. I am not kidding. That is one of the reasons this has happened.
Power has been dangerously centralized in the Senate. We like to say: Oh, we can't change the rules or we would be just like the House. We kind of are like the House, guys. We kind of are. A few people are writing legislation and a few people are making the decisions. We have to throw off the shackles of careful, open the doors of debate, reclaim the power of Members and committees, and, most of all, realize that looking the other way and hoping that everything will work out later is a foolish idea. For gosh sakes, debate and vote on amendments.
But with all the problems I have outlined, know that I love this place and you--almost all of you. You have filled my life with interesting work and unforgettable memories. We have argued, we have sung, we have fought, we have cried, and we have laughed together--just like family. You are family, and I will miss you terribly.
Desmond Tutu, a very wise man, said: ``God's dream is that you and I and all of us will realize that we are family, that we are made for togetherness, for goodness, and for compassion.''
Thank you very much.
I yield the floor.
(Applause, Senators rising.)
