I made a new friend on Thursday. She made me realize that in my blogs I have never mentioned my dad. Dad is a 76-year old Italian-American who broke all the stereotypes for men in his generation.
I am the oldest of four, two girls and two boys. Growing up, he always told us that women were smarter than men but that we had to work twice as hard to get half as far. He expected us girls to be well educated and follow our dreams. Dad reminded us constantly to appreciate that our mom is a brilliant woman who sacrificed her career for us. One of his famous sayings is that when they married, he and mom decided that he would make all of the big decisions and she would make the small ones, yet in 47 years a big decision has never come up.
Whilst many parents made their children earn their trust on a regular basis, Dad trusted us implicitly to make the right decisions. The best example of this trust was my being allowed to attend the public high school, despite earning a scholarship to a nearby private school. He picked me up from my visitation day, and he must have sensed my misery. We made a deal on the ride home that I could go where I wanted as long as I kept up my grades. We both kept our side of the bargain and my high school years are among my happiest.
When he left education to go into international business, life around my house became very interesting. He would often travel for weeks at a time and when he was home, many of the people he met in his travels became house guests. They were of every race and religion and I found out later that many were in government intelligence in their respective countries. Thus, we grew up in a home without prejudice, except of course, if you were ignorant. We children weren’t spared this bias. We were all allowed to have our own opinions, but woe to the one who couldn’t back it up with at least some semblance of fact. I am sure this daily discourse is why I make sure that my children know all sides of an issue before an idea is formed.
Despite his respect for us children as individuals, we knew very clearly that my Dad had no interest in winning popularity contests with us. During one of his summers home from law school, my brother decided to keep up his existing social hours. One morning Dad told him that he had to stop coming in so late as my mother couldn’t fall asleep until everyone was home. My brother tried telling Dad that this was really mom’s issue, not his. My dad nodded in agreement, and then asked my brother if he would like to pack his car and return to D.C. that moment or after he got home from work. Problem solved.
Over the years, I have learned about my father’s quiet, consistent generosity. Whether it was for a family member in need, one of his students or a stranger in need, Dad did what he could, even if he had little to spare.
My dad is presently working on a book about all of his views on life and his numerous adventures. It will be a great read.