Moms and Dads are pretty darn important in guiding, shaping, raising children.
We are lucky if we have both of them over long lives. And better yet on the local level to enjoy. To keep learning from and to spend time with through out the year. Moms and Dads, grandparents that are not in name only for much of life after the boys and girls grow up, leave the nest.
Many folks have to settle for once or twice yearly parental visits. Sad fact. All she wrote. The small capsule of time the family actually spends together. That happens when kids get flung into the wind like scattered seeds. To start their families, to continue life often far from where they began their own lives.
All of the four brothers in my family were lucky to have parents that lived into their eighties. That continued to stay involved, share wisdom and be a big part of all our our daily lives. Our kids too. You learn much from folks that love you, nurture you for four score. That take the responsibility very seriously.
The old family stories, history is so important. Passed down of family members, events where as young new grasshoppers we would not know about. Were not on the scene yet. To share, recite with our own kids. The grandchildren. That is part of the foundation, folklore of the family unit. The family that shares the joys. Shoulders the setbacks. Attends all the same weddings, funerals, new births, life events. The ups and downs, twists and turns along the path we all travel. That unravels, plays out quickly.
You are alone, hollow, empty without family.
We belong, are accepted. Sure social circles are great, part of life too. But to be from a family providing unconditional love. Accepted, understood, not judged. Encouraged, listened to, that guide each other from an early age. Spending time with you. Preparing you with skills, values, beliefs to define you. To handle whatever comes at you in life. How you think, react and shown how to dig deep to weather the storms. Passing on the traditions our parents taught, shared with us to our greatest treasure, our own children.
A family that sticks together is a beautiful thing. That family relationship strong or weak affects all the other ones you enter in to in life I believe. Early on the encouragement that everything will be all right gives a person a sense of safety, hope. Builds a bond of trust, not fear or insecurity. Whether being tucked in with a bedtime story and prayers before sleep. Or fed regular daily and holiday meals prepared with time, love, old family recipes. The time a family spends together on front open porch swings, taking time to share each other’s day lets you know someone cares. You are not alone, unloved in a family home filled with love. That creates a full, rich life of security instead of one of emptiness, darkness,neglect.
My Dad and Mom loved each other, built a marriage of over 65 years.
That love was demonstrated beyond just reciting the three words in actions. We were hugged by both parents, shown a path for life to follow. Taught moderation, an awareness of others, to be sensitive, caring. To work hard, to count our blessings. To look for the good, be positive. To pitch in, make things better in any way we could. We all had a purpose, role in our Maine rural family.
Today is father’s day and I remember my Dad. The B-24 WW II tail gunner, farmer, trucker, real estate broker and appraiser. But it is so hard to spotlight just one half of the team.
My Mom was the best thing to happen to my Dad.
She backed him up, made him a better Dad. But he supported, thought he got the most from his end of the partnership in return. It was so obvious how each other felt about each other growing up. Working together, in tune and helping each other unlock secrets to any insecurities, worries. The two were never alone. Boosting the potential of each other and coming along side as a unit, as one to enrich the marriage.
As a little kid there was nothing like hearing my Dad say the words “I love you Weeze” (his special version of Mary Lou).
Uttered with pure sincerity, with unwavering assurance of his true feelings deep down in his heart and soul. The words combined with a hug from behind as he reached, squeezed, held her. while she was doing dishes, wearing an kitchen apron. A peck on the lips as she turned her head to the side happened. To meet his kiss. I saw, felt, witnessed love through out my childhood. Not everyone did I now realize and was so so naive to the fact.
My Mom understood my Dad more than he did himself. She took the time to delve into his childhood, to help him explain mysteries, to explore him together. But he helped my pretty conservative, disciplined with moderation God fearing Mom soar too. To take chances, to dream deeper. She believed in him, he needed her to reach his potential. And they both worked together very hard. So it is difficult as the youngest kid of four boys to just celebrate Mothers or Father’s Day with one parent alone. Because that is not how I saw the two of them at their best. Together. Love you Mom and Dad.