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| My beautiful sisters Donna and Susan. |
Many times when I have spun my yarns I'll get a phone call or an email gently pointing out the factual errors in my recollections. "No, that was Della" or "that was five years ago" or "Colostomy?? No! He had a tracheotomy--wrong end!"
Therefore it is my distinct pleasure to offer the following recollection which, I'm sure, will generously provide those in the know with ample opportunity to engage, direct and confide.
Uncle Charlie he had a farm, he had lots of chickens.
Uncle Charlie he loved them all, they were his friends.
The girls--Becky, Susan, Colleen and Donna--used to sing that song quite often. Or rather, Grandmere, Sarlita, Carlita and Jarlita did. At one point in our youth we gave ourselves Mexican-style names although mine, perhaps, was more Spanish Colonial as I was called Don Diego. It doesn't speak well of our parents that someone felt that, since we were emulating immigrants, we belonged in the fields. That's how we came to visit Uncle Charlie's farm: we were recruited to de-tassle corn.
First, let me say what a lousy job that is and allow me to apologize to anyone I have ever unintentionally maligned for having to do any kind of agricultural work. I might add that our parents knew what they were doing when they loaded us onto that flatbed truck and sent us out into what appeared to be endless rows of feed corn. It was dirty, boring, hard work and, after we had finished, we found our wages (hot dogs, potato salad and tall, cold glasses of lemonade) to be, however sating, wholly inadequate to the task. Right away we learned that work is hard and that, because it is hard, one should be humbly grateful for and respectful of those things which were given to us through the fruits of our parents' own hard labor.
Sometimes I know for a fact that youth is wasted on the young. I will warn you, however, that a wise youth is a formidable force of nature. Think of all the things you know now--not just the factual reality of those things but the whys and wherefores as well. Now, imagine what you could have accomplished if you had possessed all of that knowledge and wisdom when you were 18.
It's only over the past ten years or so that much of what I learned 30 and even 40 years ago has started to make perfect sense. It may be because my perspective has finally shifted, thanks to time and age, to a point where it is aligned with that of my teachers. Because I now see the world from the same angle and manner in which they did I am more able to share in their viewpoint and benefit from their experience.
If that's so, then I need to remind myself to be appropriate and deliberate in my discussions with the younger generations of my family. If I truly want to help them, I need to offer advice and guidance while looking at their world through their eyes. I need to gently and lovingly offer kind assistance in much the same way as my beautiful sisters offer it to me.
