A bit overcome with nostalgia this morning. I was watching someone’s tribute to WWII veterans, who are passing on at a rapid rate now. It made me think of my Father and my Mother. My Father was a quiet, unassuming man, my Mom the more animated one of the duo. Their life’s journey and all they had endured was not lost on me as a youth: early life abuses and hardship, the Depression, the war (WWII) and their partnership through the years of combat, distance and waiting, later their building a life together pay check to pay check. But, I only knew what I knew from brief overheard conversations with others.
Through all those years, I never once sat down and talked to my Father about his thoughts, feelings or memories of those years away and what he saw, what he felt. And, he didn’t offer it up…he had just gone on with his life. Now, as an older man, I think I recognize that my Father had his demons. It reaffirms my admonition, once again, establish the connection with your parent. Awkward at first perhaps…but more awkward than the lost opportunities to discover?
“Of all tyrannies, a tyranny sincerely exercised for the good of its victims may be the most oppressive. It would be better to live under robber barons than under omnipotent moral busybodies. The robber baron's cruelty may sometimes sleep, his cupidity may at some point be
satiated; but those who torment us for our own good will torment us without end for they do so with the approval of their own conscience.”