Parental Mantras worth heeding

"Knowledge is Power"! This phrase has haunted me for several years as my father would reiterate it on a daily basis to my siblings and me as we would all sit at the kitchen table doing our homework or in my eldest brothers case, not doing it. Being the fourth child, his daily affirmation would be directed primarily to my elder brothers and sister. As I toiled with reading my spelling words by sounding them out my eldest sister was concentrating on her five hundred word essay on the effects of the Civil Rights movement in America. By the time I had reached the ninth grade at North Catholic I had turned a deaf ear to my fathers' sage advice. I usually opted for the "Cliff note" version of the required readings and did not even take my college boards as I had already decided to become a carpenter. After all what objections could my parents have to such a worthy trade. Joseph himself was a carpenter and Jesus being his son would certainly cinch my decision as far as mom was concerned.

As you may have guessed by my last sentence that I was born into an Irish Catholic family in the late fifties. My father was a flawed catholic in my maternal Grandmothers' eyes because he was actually a Protestant! It was his gift of gab, rugged good looks and his signing of a Church generated document that cinched the deal in Grand mom's eyes. He would agree to uphold and encourage a Catholic education. Both of my parents were the eldest sibling of their respective families and each can be classified as "Children of the Depression". Neither of them were able to complete high school and in my father's case didn't even attend. Instead he became the defacto bread winner for his seven siblings as my grandfather was bitten by the Irish bug and spent most of his off hours at the local taproom. My mother did enjoy the benefits of starting the ninth grade but had to leave school to become a pseudo mother of nine and a contributing supporter of the family as a cafeteria worker for the Lit Brothers Department stores in Philadelphia area. Same bug different taproom.

My father left this earth in 1992 and is missed by many whose lives he touched. He was a shop foreman for a fire suppression company and a proud union man. He always had time for his children and while he was not the type of person to resolve issues for us he always strove to give us the tools to be able to endure and overcome any adversity that we would face. This would be in keeping with his second pearl of wisdom, "Learn from your mistakes". If not for the fact that dad only used this as his back up plan , my eldest brother would be a Rhode Scholar! Wise decision making was not my brother John's strong suit as he continually found himself chawing on a sliver of brown soap for telling a whopper or finding it hard to sit at the dinner table as a result of quest for knowledge. Simple rules applied to all in our household, tell a lie eat the soap, goof off and receive the belt on the bottom. Knowing the parameters and watching my elder siblings I easily navigated within those boundaries as did my elder brother. We both had the good fortune of learning from John's mistakes!

My mother and father both have had their share of adversity in their childhoods and while my father was a black and white, right and wrong kind of guy , my mother imparted her wisdom on us in a more abstract way. Her wisdom was passed to her from her mother (long since deceased) whom she adored and even at the age of 83 she still honors her on her birthday with a beautiful wreath of flowers at her grave site. "Use the tools in your toolbox", a phrase that I believe is rather unique to our family.

My mother believes, as do I that when a child is born into this world, he or she is accompanied with a simple wooden toolbox. As parents we are empowered by God to fill this box with some simple tools (virtues) to help us become good people. The first tool placed inside the box is Love; a simple tool that is used every day and kept pristine so as not to be tarnished by the realities of life. The second tool is manners. Simple and yet effective when used daily. It can also be somewhat disarming as my brother John found out. Don't get me wrong, he still got into trouble for his misdeeds but was always well thought of by the school disciplinarian. She would often light an extra candle for John on Saturday morning at church. My mother had developed cramps in her hands from saying so many decades of the rosary for John as my father would apply the proper corporal punishment. The third and most powerful tool in our boxes is a compound tool. Patience and tolerance, when used together they would afford us the ability to gleen a greater understanding of a person or situation that would otherwise be lost if not for such a wonderous tool. My eldest sister Patricia is masterful in her use of this particular tool. I can honestly say that in my fifty two years on this earth I have not met anyone as kind, loving and insightful as my sister and I am honored to be her brother. The fourth tool, one that seems to be missing from all too many tool boxes these days is respect! This is to be given freely and maintained by the recipients' actions. In today's world it should not be offered haphazard but still kept handy for those who are in need of it.

It was not until my twenty-eighth birthday that I became reflective and searched out the essence of my fathers' mantra. I have become quite a reader and while my life has been froth with adversity from time to time, I have come through each and every trial and tribulation with a greater understanding of my dad's repetitive ramblings. I face each day armed with the simplest of tools and look forward to future challenges. It is by virtue of this flailing economy that I find myself being able to stroke the very keys that produce these words. Hopefully in some consistent context for anyone who will take the time to read them. That reminds me of one other pearl dad used to consistently espouse to my brother Rick. "It's all about Application". I had almost forgotten this one, Rick would be considered in some circles as a "great thinker", but to all of us sitting at the table trying to get our daily work complete, he was a slacker! I guess by todays' standards he would have been diagnosed with ADHD, or possible Turrets' syndrome. In the world of Parochial schools in the sixties he was a constant reminder to his classmates that they had better fall in line or suffer the same fate. One hundred times, "I must be quiet in class". Like John, his use of manners kept the punishments to a minimal. I gravitated more towards the patience and tolerance aspect of our upbringing. Being the youngest son I could observe the others and become the shining example by default.

Knowledge is power after all ! These truths are not mutually exclusive to any particular faith, ethnic group or nation. They just make good sense. In todays' political landscape, we as citizens of the still greatest country in the world need to display and instill in our children more of these inclusive characteristics. There is no greater loss to any citizenry than ignorance. We can disagree with fervor while still remaining decent in our dissent. I choose to admire those who have the power of knowledge. I am a proud and accomplished carpenter who has had the presence of mind and clarity of thought to elect my officials based on historical knowledge of their past and not marginalize any person based on the word of a radio or television personality whose soul purpose is to attain high ratings or falsely represent their true agenda.

I have learned from my own mistakes in life, haven been bitten by the bug that enraptured both of my grandfathers. I have been enjoying life for the past twenty five years as a sober American of Irish decent,father of three outstanding sons and the husband of one the most patient and tolerant women I have ever known. (puts up with me). Have a good day.