What prevailed on that zany Sunday in the early 19560s was guilt.
Guilt, then, fused with conscience.
The Holy Family Nuns and the Resurrectionist Fathers introduced this duo to the Fear of God, and complete my psycho-spiritual trinity. This trinity would be forged by, and with, two other operatives to become my cinque.
One of these operatives was passion.
As long as I can remember, people, things, ideas......... had wonderful energy that enthused me. I am most thankful to my parents, for not only validating my zest, but having nurtured my sense of self as one that could employ this vivacity as an important tool of life.
My Father and Mother were lovingly dedicated parents. They made an extraordinary effort to build my self-esteem by paving a road of positiveness.
There were miracles, but no magic.
I had the ability to do anything ~ but not something anyone else couldn't do.
Miracles, impossibilities possible, and hopes fulfilled were part of the Karwowski way of life. Occasionally, enlightened encouragement would come in remarks. as my dad or mom would effortlessly point out examples of successes, if they sensed the slightest self-doubt in me. “If your stupid cousin __________, could do it, you certainly can” - or “so and so just made up their mind to do it and did it”
.
Ardor and passion were simply part of my family. They were critical ingredients in the crucible of alchemy that yielded the fuel necessary to turn dreams into reality.
Sometimes there was a dramatic scene or an unfolding adventure that highlighted things getting done by determination as in the family history. Mom's rise from depths of poverty and dad's becoming the first family professional, were just two of a family constellation which included Grandfather Paul's journey through Ellis Island with $25.00 and the clothes on his back.
With my brothers, there was the uphill climb, over high school teachers declarations of ridiculous fantasy for a kid from your patch of the city, of Bob to graduate as a mining engineer.
There's brightness in the future, as Jerry continues to generate new dreams as the old ones, like carrying the Olympic torch, come true; and ingenuity from Eagle Scout Thad who paddled a disabled boat safely to harbor with only a hockey stick.
Through my entire basic training, I was given a rock solid foundation from parents who deeply loved.
To ensure the spirit had all the necessary provisions for my journey outside the walls of my home and into the remote areas across Diversey Avenue, they drilled me on the answer to primary questioning: “What are you?”
…..........to be continued.................................
Every Sunday
Happy Daze,
The Captain
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