Since God has created us to live in relationship with one another, it is good to understand those around us, especially in our family and among good, close friends. In this way, I believe, we can make the best of what God intended for us and for the others around us. It is to this point the I offer the following.
This is like an About Page, or summary of who Papa is and some of the background as to why he is that way. Two things have precipitated this writing. First, a recent communication between myself and a family member in which a significant misunderstanding occurred. Secondly, an article I read this morning that began with the following: “Bishops have not been trained as warriors.” The writer continues, “They do not know how to lead a defense against a determined and resourceful arm of anti-Christian zealots.” The author concludes with “So let’s train them.” The word “Warriors” jumped out on the page for me. My response to the mentality of this writer’s position will have to wait for another time. However, in my reflection concerning the family communication mentioned earlier, it brought to my mind how the Good Lord had trained me to be a warrior for His cause and the misunderstanding that occurred in the family communication needed to be clarified.
I was raised, the eldest of seven children, by two warriors, my parents, each in their own right. First, my dad. He was a no-nonsense kind of guy. He was the head of the household and he loved his family very much. However, growing up as a kid, I did not recognize his love for us. He was unconditionally faithful and dedicated to his wife and to us, his children.
Rasing four boys and three girls is no walk in the park. We lived in a disciplined household. It was expected of us to behave and do the chores assigned to us without complaint or back talk. It was tough at times and we did not always understand my dad’s methods of discipline, but it was not abusive or overly controlling. Of course, as kids we did get away with a lot outside the immediate eye of our father. This is common, I suppose, as the kids grow into their teenage years. However, we all survived pretty well, I think. Individually, my dad was not easy on me and this prepared me well for my adult life. My dad never sought to treat me as his friend, I was his son and he had the responsibility to raise me to be able to not only survive in the larger world, but also to be able to face the difficulties and many challenges that life would throw at me as I grew into adulthood. This required the heart of an adult, not remaining a child trying to please other people, but to be truthful, trustworthy and hardworking in your affairs with others. To have respect for authority and put yourself under the authority of those who were given charge over you. He taught me to take responsibility for my life and those in my family and those I worked with. My dad also taught me not to complain when things became difficult, seemed unfair or unreasonable.
My dad was not a critic of others. I rarely, if ever, heard him speak ill of others. Looking back, I now realize he taught me not by words, but by the way he lived his life. In realizing this, I am even more grateful for his example
My dad was full-blooded Norwegian—Viking blood, for those who can relate. He was not known as a nice guy, whatever that might mean. He was a masculine man, through and through. Was he a human person, with emotions and feelings under his stoic demeanor? Yes, of course he was, but rarely showed. Was he sometimes hurt and misunderstood by his children? Yes definitely, of course he was. Did he smile or laugh at times? He did, but not that often. I am his son, one of four that he raised. My dad and I are not the exact same, but we share a lot of qualities.
My mother was also a warrior, but in a motherly way. She was also a no-nonsense type person, but not in the same way as my dad. My mom was easy to talk to, whereas my dad spoke only a few words. My mom ran the family in a motherly way. She was very protective of her children, but she did not interfere with the discipline my dad followed. She understood him. Her love was more caring as the feminine-motherly person she was. However, the principles and attributes she carried, and instilled in her children were sterling.
Her Catholic faith was uncompromising. She was not in any way sentimental about her faith, rather it was her lifeblood. She did not speak outwardly about her faith, but when necessary she was like Saint Paul in her courage and outspokenness in its defense. If something was on her mind, or she was uneasy about something that was happening in the family, she spoke up and made her concerns known to us. You knew, as her child, she would defend you no matter what circumstance you found yourself in, whether good or bad. You knew she was there with you. If you messed up, she would tell you point blank of your misdeed and the need to make amends. She did not hold back. But her dedication and love for you was manifested in spades.
In my eyes, both my mom and my dad were warriors. They were leaders in their appropriate roles as mother and father to us children. They did not follow the so-called norms of the culture, that even in the 1950s and 60s were deteriorating. Either one of them would have died willingly, if called for, for any one of us. Of course they were weak human beings, as all of us are. But deep inside they were strong persons of character, a presence that manifested itself in the virtues and principles they honed and perfected throughout their lives, virtues and principles not often seen in today’s world. I am proud and immensely thankful for the gift of my parents. Even amidst my own weaknesses and strengths, I make no excuse for the type of person I am today.
“No one else can want for me. No one can substitute his act of will for mine. It does sometimes happen that someone very much wants me to want what he wants. This is the moment when the impassable frontier between him and me, which is drawn by free will, becomes most obvious. I may not want that which he wants me to want – and in this precisely I am incommunicabilis[1]. I am, and I must be, independent in my actions. All human relationships are posited on this fact.”
― John Paul II, Love and Responsibility
[1] The quality or state of being incapable of being communicated. Unique, a mystery to others.