(Cross-posted at Conservathink.)

Just imagine that telephone call.

You've just graduated from Boston College and you're on holiday in Italy with Mom, and you're getting ready to go back home when you find out that your dad has just had a heart attack - and died.

You weren't expecting this. Dad had been in Italy with you just before but decided to go back to the States early to get some work done. You and Mom were going to go home soon to celebrate Father's Day week-end after celebrating the consummation of the most important years of your life - only to learn that one of the most important formers of those years is now gone.

Now imagine that you're older, in your late 80's, and perhaps you had just read over the book your son wrote for you. Your days in this world are numbered, but you know you will leave it a better place, having raised your child to reflect your values - a child who put into print the language of the heart which only a parent knows.

But this time, that heart - that literal heart - has ceased working.

Then you get that telephone call. You will have to bury your child this week-end. And, again, it's Father's Day.

Those were my immediate thoughts on the passing of Tim Russert. Too often when a figure of Russert's stature dies, we focus on the outward accomplishments of the person as a professional, rather than the personal accomplishments of the person as a human being.

Russert made us remember both.

Every Sunday afternoon, I always watched the re-runs of my two favourite Sunday morning talk-shows, which had run during Mass: Fox News Sunday with Chris Wallace and Meet the Press with Tim Russert.

I was unsurprised by Wallace's professionalism. After all, FOX News upholds itself as the pinnacle of fair-and-balanced journalism. NBC was just another cog in the Left-wing main-stream media.

Russert was the exception who proved the rule.

Oh, we could always point to Russert's political past - he worked for Democrats Daniel Patrick Moynihan and Mario Cuomo - but were it not for his jobs with those partisan figures, one would have no clue as to Russert's personal views: the ultimate sign of journalistic integrity. In fact, the knowledge that Russert worked for politicians from one side of the aisle, yet managed to make his biases almost undetectable when he worked, made his professionalism all the more apparent.

Russert was not the sort of fellow who you described as, "A pretty good host, but clearly favouring X political party." No, Russert was a man who was so neutral as to transcend both Red and Blue: He was perfect Purple.

But enough of how he worked, what about what he did? He interrogated.

If you said something to a random reporter you thought wouldn't be held against you, Russert got that quote, slapped it on-screen and made you 'fess up.

Why are you seemingly contradicting yourself, Senator?

No offence, Congressman, but if seems you flip-flopped.

With all due respect, Mr. President, I am confused by these conflicting quotes.

Russert never backed down.

But more than that, Russert was a fearless pioneer in a field - objective journalism - which is growing ever more out of fashion in favour of opinion journalism, an oxymoron if there ever was one. It was this dedication to the facts - no spin, no bias - over the comparatively tawdry shout-fests and unanswered "Special Comments" which permeate our news sources and do nothing to advance the national dialogue - indeed, they severely retard it - which made Russert stand out. So sad, really: He stood out because he actually did his job.

Tim Russert was by all accounts a good man, a funny man, an all-around nice guy with a great, big smile and a potato-shaped head. Those qualities alone do not make a journalist, but they do not need to. They make a man.

Indeed, if we have been taught nothing as children it is this: The greatest gift we can give our parents is to live long enough that they needn't bury us, and likewise, the greatest gift we can give our children is to live long enough that their lives are enriched by our presence well into adulthood.

Unfortunately, sometimes things don't work out the way we would like. Sometimes Someone has another Plan. We can not change it; we can only hope that we might cope with what life gives us. Making lemonade out of lemons and all that rot.

This week-end, whether your father - or mother for that matter - is alive or not, just remember this: When we entered this world was not of our choosing, and neither is when we leave it. Both birth and death are celebratory occasions. Neither should be sadder or happier than the other, because in the end, birth is just the first step towards our final conclusion here. It is what occurs between those events which really counts here. It it what happens after that end which really counts There.

Tim Russert showed us that a life well lived required an appreciation for what - and who - we loved most. And his was an example which we should all try to emulate.

So, this Father's Day week-end, please, keep Maureen and Luke and "Big Russ" in your thoughts and prayers. Not only are they suffering from personal loss, they are going to be reminded of that loss every day for countless news cycles, and then forgotten, left to reconcile that loss in the privacy of their own hearts.

And please, I beg you, if you have children, tell them that you love them and never, ever stop. If your parents are still alive, tell them that you love them and never, ever stop. You never know when it will be the last time your ears hear "I love you" back, even if your heart always hears it.

The heart must never grow deaf.

I love you, Dad. You are my rock. I don't need a book to tell you that; I don't even need this blog. I just need you.

Thank you, Mr. Russert, for everything you did for our country, for your family and for our families. May God bless you and give you your Eternal Reward.

Go Bills.