Crediting My Sources

After visiting for a week, my parents went back to Kentucky today. It seems appropriate, in the tradition of Marcus Aurelius, to add to this online version of his Meditations an acknowledgment of the personal debts I owe to them (and to a few others). I don't pretend to list (or even be aware of) my material debts to my Mom and Dad. Rather, there are certain things about myself that I like, and for which they are responsible. This meditation is not meant to be comprehensive, but it is meant to be fundamental.

1. To my Father I owe my capacity to give my heart the first word. I often aphoristically say that my Father moves faster than the speed of thought; that is to say, he is at his best when he acts instinctively, even before consideration is humanly possible. To wit: I was once visiting the Louvre with my family, and I saw a little boy fall and skin his knees. We were near the top of an escalator, and he was at the bottom. I thought to myself, "Somone should really help him . . ." but, I swear to you, before the thought was even complete my father was already at the bottom of the escalator helping him to his feet. It was as if he had teleported. In less time than it takes to blink (or so I remember), he had vaulted to the aid of a complete stranger. It was then that I first saw my Father for who he is: a man whose heart moves him to act before his mind can catch up.

2. To my mother I owe my capacity to give my reason the last word. In a situation where reflection is required instead of immediate action, my heart becomes turbulent and unreliable. It is then that I am most grateful to my Mother, for I have inherited a portion of her insight and sagacity without which I would be a hopeless mess. Between my Father's heart and my Mother's mind, I have a decision-making apparatus that seldom steers me wrong.

3. To both of my parents I owe my unflinching honesty. I don't mean honesty in the ethical sense of truthfulness and uprightness, which I don't have in such abundance as I might. I mean, rather, honesty in the more valuable sense of objective forthrightness. This means, for one thing, that I speak my mind with only what circumlocution is required to preserve diplomacy and no dissimulation whatsoever. What is more valuable to me, however, is that I tell myself the truth. I am under no illusions about my motives, habits and character flaws. There is no truth about myself so ugly that I refuse to acknowledge it. I trust myself, therefore, and I cannot think of many who do.

4. To both of my parents I owe my hospitality. What is mine is yours, cherished reader, though I may never have met you.

5. To my Mother I owe my empathy for the outcasts and underdogs, who never escape her notice and tender concern.

6. To my Father I owe the understanding that my smile is a beacon of fellowship to others and a panacea to myself.

7. To my Mother I owe my conviction to do that which everyone knows must be done. You may have found yourself in a group of people who all know that someone must stand up and speak out, but do not want to be the first to do so out of fear. Each of them would gladly be the second to take a stand, but haven't the conviction to face the possibility of being the only one standing. Perhaps you have then seen someone stand up and start a flood of assent allowing real action to be taken and genuine injustice to be averted. That person was my Mother.

8. To my Father I owe the understanding that, somehow, it will all be okay. Worry if you must, but it will turn out for the best regardless.

9. To my Mother I owe my conviction that the welfare of a child is the absolute highest good.

10. To my sister I owe the knowledge that second chances and forgiveness happen.

11. To my first-grade teacher, Mrs. Hergenretter, I owe the knowledge that strangers can be okay.

12. To my sixth-grade teacher, Mr. Johnson, I owe my faith that children can take the truth.

13. To my Gramma I owe the knowledge that I don't have to change anything about myself. I can if I want to, and some things really could use a little polish, but I don't have to, because I am okay, dammit (my Grandmother would never say dammit in front of me, however).

Please understand that there are plenty of nasty traits I have inherited, as well as plenty of traits the source of which I cannot divine. I simply felt like acknowledging my debts, and expressing my deep gratitude to and for some of the wonderful people I have been blessed to learn from. Thank you.