Lessons from my father

Let's hypothetically say that a mayoral candidate, during the height of campaign season, makes a decision to abandon his spouse and family.  That is a decision that would automatically cause my heart to sink into my stomach.  It is a decision that would simultaneously make me sad and angry and perhaps a bit bewildered.

And it is not only because I am, deep to my core, a pro-family conservative.  It is also because of how I was raised.

I have rarely discussed my father at this blog.  He died 21 years ago of heart disease at age 59.  He grew up in a small-town environment on Staten Island, and had six siblings.  Both of his parents had immigrated from southern Italy.

He had a best friend when he was growing up, whom I shall call Tony.  And it turns out that after they all came of age, Tony married my dad's sister, whom I shall call my Aunt Margie.  They had four children together, and lived three blocks from our home. 

The life of our extended family, when I was a child, was a joyful one.  We got together for every birthday, anniversary, first communion, graduation, confirmation, etc.  Family get-togethers were frequent and spirited and fun.  And that was always true when we visited the home of Aunt Margie and Uncle Tony.

But then, when I was approximately 10 or 11 years old, something happened.  Uncle Tony ran off with another woman with whom he worked.  He left behind his wife and four children.  Even when Uncle Tony was there, they were barely scraping by with their bills.  After he left, they became destitute.  My aunt had no career skills-- zero.

My dad and all of his siblings pitched in money every month to help Aunt Margie pay her bills, and so that she would not lose her house.  The community eventually rallied to support them.  Part-time jobs were found for the two older kids in a department store and bakery, respectively.  Whatever money they made went to household expenses.  The local Catholic church to which most of the extended family belonged hired my aunt as a cleaning lady.

A long period elapsed, and no one had seen Uncle Tony.  They didn't even know where he was.  Everyone was distraught and puzzled.  He had attempted to make no contact, and provided no support.

But finally, he came back.  And somehow, my dad had the opportunity to confront him.

I should note that my father was rough around the edges, a carpenter by trade, a somewhat formidable presence-- also named Joe.  He had been facing the reality that his boyhood best friend-- now his brother-in-law-- had abandoned his sister and her kids. 

In any case, my dad finally had the chance to see Uncle Tony.  He told Uncle Tony, face-to-face, that he was an animal, because only an animal would abandon his wife and kids.  It was a guttural expression of outrage.  He then leaned forward and pointed to his own chin; and told Tony that if he didn't like what he had just said, Tony could go right ahead and nail him... right in the chin.

My dad, of course, was speaking metaphorically.  He was speaking of the norm in the animal world -- that males are usually out of the picture quickly, and that the female would typically assume the role of nurturing and raising the young.

Uncle Tony wisely shrank from the challenge my dad issued.  He would have gotten whupped if he had chosen to fight.

Looking back on this episode, I am proud of the stand that my father took.  This is one of those stories that speak volumes about the values and morals to which people were once expected to adhere.  But from where had this outrage come?

My dad was not a devout Catholic.  He attended church precisely twice per year-- Christmas and Easter.  This was not unusual for Italian-American adult males. 

But surely, there must have been a centuries-long Catholic expectation that had been inculcated into his ancestors, and passed along the generations.  He had doubtless been taught about family and marital obligations, according to an ancestral wisdom that had emanated from the village from which his parents had come, about which I had written previously.  It was a lesson and example that I also had learned from my mom and grandparents and aunts and uncles and older cousins.

And so, when I consider the hypothetical example of the mayoral candidate who abandons his wife and/or family, it arouses in me a visceral reaction partially programmed by my upbringing.  If he were to do such a thing, he would be, metaphorically speaking, akin to an animal-- just as my dad had said. 

And I can't help but feel even more strongly about it when it occurs among elites who have every economic advantage, and who even propose to be leading us.  These are the people who should be setting the best example.

We can talk about how, in the contemporary world, problems are somehow more intractable or complex.  But in fact, problems of the human heart caused by individual frailty and sin have existed for thousands of years.  This is nothing new.  We are all vulnerable.

We can wield an "enlightened", contemporary, tolerant attitude toward marital dissolution, and pretend it should be of no consequence to anyone but the parties involved.  Everyone has the right to pursue their own perceived self-interest, so goes the current thinking.  It is therefore beyond the reach of polite, restrained discussion.

But a man of honor and integrity and character does not typically abandon his wife and family.  The man who is trustworthy does not typically do this type of thing.

If he were still alive, you could even ask my dad.

Comments

[TCS]

Bubba, if Joe took a dump in your mouth, would you swallow it?

[bubba]

Slimey cretins are crawling out from under rocks everywhere, aren't they?

[David Hoggard]

Joe has made unsubstantiated accusations of family abandonment, possible blackmail, and raised the specter of spousal abuse, and you term ME as the bottom feeder?!

Joe has smeared himself all over the place, Bob.

[David Hoggard]

Joe has made unsubstantiated accusations of family abandonment, possible blackmail, and raised the specter of spousal abuse, and you term ME as the bottom feeder?!

Joe has smeared HIMSELF all over the place, Bob.

[Mick]

Hrrrmph... twice!

[bubba]

"....and you term ME as the bottom feeder?!"

Yes. Your premise has no basis.

Deal with it

[The Dread pirate Gryphon]

Ed loves to pretend that butter wouldn't melt in his mouth - the purity of his journalistic acumen would make Murrow throw up his hands in despair. Ask him about Cindy Sheehan's integrity and moral probity sometime.