As remiss as I've been in posting this past month, I couldn't let today go by without acknowledging my father. Of course, I sent him a card (which I hope arrived on time), but this blog gives me the opportunity to acknowledge in public things about my father that I've only shared in private, and not even necessarily with him.
To begin with, my father is a much more fascinating individual than he would ever let on. It's easy for me to imagine him emerging from the womb with a pair of thick-framed glasses and neatly combed hair, but that would be an exaggeration. I don't think he needed glasses until he was two. If you look up "conservative" in the dictionary, you'll find a photo of George M. Schneider: oldest of three children and father of five, tax accountant, staunch Republican (until recently), and even stauncher Catholic (until even more recently). In short, the Establishment's ideal conservative.
But you'll have to read the fine print to find the young man who was an art school dropout (and very good cartoonist) and student of philosophy. Or the man who had to postpone college to serve two years in the Army during the Korean War. Fortunately, my father spent the war stateside, keeping the shores of Louisiana free from communists.
At my age, my father had to support a wife and four children, ages three to twelve (with a fifth and future blogger still to come). By contrast, I've had it embarrassingly easy, with two dogs and a wife who, as she proudly pointed out yesterday, is supporting me through seminary. In society today we are encouraged to live selfishly, irresponsibly, and beyond our means. My father and his generation predate all of that. If I had kids, I would want to impart to them that sense of responsibility that comes from patience, sacrifice, and perseverance--traits my father imparted to me through his silent example. I think the closest I'll come is the "stay" trick I've taught my dogs, wherein I lay a treat six inches from them and command them to "stay" before feverishly devouring it on my "okay."
What I am most proud of in my father, however, and which totally belies his conservative nature, is his willingness to hold some of his firmest opinions and deepest beliefs up to the light for examination to see whether they are fundamental or merely convenient. In his seventies, at an age when most people's views are undergoing fossilization, my father re-evaluated many of his personal, political, and religious beliefs. Some he let go of, and not just let go of but turned from 180 degrees. Others were, in fact, strengthened. Today I remind myself never to take for granted the courage, honesty, and imagination he displayed in being willing to question himself. Yes, he may have dropped out of art school, but my father still paints an exceptional picture of fatherhood.
To begin with, my father is a much more fascinating individual than he would ever let on. It's easy for me to imagine him emerging from the womb with a pair of thick-framed glasses and neatly combed hair, but that would be an exaggeration. I don't think he needed glasses until he was two. If you look up "conservative" in the dictionary, you'll find a photo of George M. Schneider: oldest of three children and father of five, tax accountant, staunch Republican (until recently), and even stauncher Catholic (until even more recently). In short, the Establishment's ideal conservative.
But you'll have to read the fine print to find the young man who was an art school dropout (and very good cartoonist) and student of philosophy. Or the man who had to postpone college to serve two years in the Army during the Korean War. Fortunately, my father spent the war stateside, keeping the shores of Louisiana free from communists.
At my age, my father had to support a wife and four children, ages three to twelve (with a fifth and future blogger still to come). By contrast, I've had it embarrassingly easy, with two dogs and a wife who, as she proudly pointed out yesterday, is supporting me through seminary. In society today we are encouraged to live selfishly, irresponsibly, and beyond our means. My father and his generation predate all of that. If I had kids, I would want to impart to them that sense of responsibility that comes from patience, sacrifice, and perseverance--traits my father imparted to me through his silent example. I think the closest I'll come is the "stay" trick I've taught my dogs, wherein I lay a treat six inches from them and command them to "stay" before feverishly devouring it on my "okay."
What I am most proud of in my father, however, and which totally belies his conservative nature, is his willingness to hold some of his firmest opinions and deepest beliefs up to the light for examination to see whether they are fundamental or merely convenient. In his seventies, at an age when most people's views are undergoing fossilization, my father re-evaluated many of his personal, political, and religious beliefs. Some he let go of, and not just let go of but turned from 180 degrees. Others were, in fact, strengthened. Today I remind myself never to take for granted the courage, honesty, and imagination he displayed in being willing to question himself. Yes, he may have dropped out of art school, but my father still paints an exceptional picture of fatherhood.
Comments
Post a Comment