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It is easy to talk
yourself into believing that where you come from doesn’t matter;
that the people you come from have no impact upon who you are today.
But you would be wrong. Who you come from is important to your sense
of self, to putting together the puzzle of your life. All the bits
and pieces that make up who we are, the quirky things we do,
gestures, that funny way you have of tilting your neck, your love of
bleu cheese-all those things come from somewhere. We are connected
to people from our families in a multitude of ways. Knowing your
heritage is important.
My father is, in
large part, an enigma to me. He was 46 when I was born. His parents
both came from
Italy
to Boston in the early
part of the 20th century. From the records I have been
able to find, they came through Ellis Island
around 1901. He grew up in a small apartment in
Boston with his parents
and seven brothers and sisters.
I don’t know many of
the details of his life. Here is what I know for sure:
I learned from my
father to never go visit anyone empty-handed. He was the most
generous person I have ever known.
He made the best
tasting spaghetti sauce in the world. I once flew home from
Boston with a large
frozen tub of his sauce. I was pregnant. I made that tub last for
almost six months-I kept it in our freezer and scraped off just
enough at a time to put on a small bowl of pasta.
He had a great sense
of fun and mischief.
He almost never
yelled. I can count on one hand the number of times I heard him
raise his voice.
He was always willing
to help people.
He was a very proud
man.
He was very gentle.
Not once in my life did he ever spank me.
And, he was the worst
driver I have ever ridden with. You see, he never took a driving
test, written or road. He had a driver’s license, in his own name
and all, but he never studied the laws. Back in the mid 1960’s,
while driving by a car lot, he spied a Cadillac that caught his eye.
He stopped to check it out. It was a beauty. The car salesman
offered him a fantastic deal. So tempting. The only problem was, he
didn’t drive.
“Don’t worry,” the
slick salesman told him. “You buy this car and I’ll get you your
license.” So he did, he bought that shiny red Cadillac and that
salesman kept his word. He got my dad a driver’s license.
The person you are
today largely depends on you; but never forget where you come
from. | 
