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Memoir of My Father

A I know my father well enough to know that he would never write down his history. He's too scared to use his own voice, too scared to relive unpleasant moments. Sure, he'll give you a peek into his life through jokes or vignettes about what a noble and generous spirit he is, how he bucked the system, or how he one-upped one of his Harvard buddies. Some of his stories are told to invoke pity, others to inspire admiration. But that is only to cover the hurt--the hurt that came out in other ways during my own childhood, through anger, and drinking, and crying, and unconditional love. I've tried to uncover that hurt and get to the root of it, but all I've found is stories. So what I am offering here are some of my father's stories and what they mean.

B My father is an atheist. My mother was raised protestant. When she asked my father if she could take us to church, he said, "no." I asked him many times, "Why? Why don't you believe in God?" His answer was always the same. "Dear, no God would make anyone suffer as much as I have. I don't think it would be possible for any being to be so cruel to another as to wish upon them a life like the one I've had." I always thought he was exaggerating.

C My dad grew up in Webster City, Iowa, a place I've never been and know little about. The son of an absentee father (a Greek immigrant from the Peloponnesus) and a punitive mother, he was the youngest by far of three brothers…

D "When I was about five, living in Webster City, I got the measles. Back then, if you had the measles, you had to nail an orange quarantine flag on your front door to warn people not to come near you. If you were sick, you had to stay inside. If you left, you could contaminate someone else, or you could damage your eyesight from the sun."

E "One day, while I was sick, my mother decided she didn't want to take care of me any more, so she went to Nebraska to visit a cousin. She left my 12-year-old brother in charge. He was so excited about the freedom that he took off immediately—and I don't blame him; he was only a child himself. After two days of being alone, I went outside and sat on the front porch and cried. I hadn't had anything to eat for two days; I was hungry and I was lonely."

F The image of my father in his little shorts and bony knees, sitting on the front porch in the sun, covered in a rash, always made me cry as well, no matter how many times I heard the story. Now I knew why he wore glasses when everyone else in my family had perfect eyesight.

G "Finally, the neighbors found me. The neighbors, whose livelihood was the bed and breakfast they ran, who didn't have any reason to take care of me, took down the quarantine flag and nailed it to their own front door. They put their own business in jeopardy to take care of me when no one else would."

H When I was growing up outside of Boston, we always had strangers in and out of the house, living with us, spending weeks, months, in our guest room until they got back on their feet. My father has always lent a hand to strangers in need. He was the only misanthrope I knew who defended the underdog, and he has gotten burned more often than not. There was Steve, the cross dresser (unbeknownst to me), who left owing my father $500. There was Wendy, who had gone crazy when her mother died and burned down her luxury apartment in New York. She was caught stealing change from my little sister's Christmas fund. Dave—he called my dad from the George Washington Bridge ready to jump off; Jack, found sleeping in his car, rescued by Dad; Verge, smoking pot behind the rhododendron bushes…the list goes on.

I "When my brother got a full scholarship to Harvard, my mother upped and moved us East with him. The two of us hitchhiked from Webster City to Cambridge much to the dismay of my brother who wanted nothing more than to be as far away as possible from me, our mother, Webster City, and his wretched childhood. He was going to Hahvahd," my dad would say with his best snotty blueblood accent. "But what really did it, what really pissed him off was he found us picking dandelion greens in Harvard Yard to stew for dinner. From then on he more or less pretended that we didn't exist."

J My father also ended up getting a full scholarship to Harvard, but unlike my uncle, he eschewed the social trappings that went along with a Harvard education. While my uncle shunned his humble upbringing, my father reveled in it, using it to differentiate himself from the "snobs" at school (while all the time maintaining that he was on an intellectual plateau above most of them anyway).

K "I still remember attending a party at Eliot House—the most 'traditional' house at Harvard. I was a scholarship kid; I worked in the dining hall. Apparently someone thought I had no business being there.
'Who are you?' he said.
I told him my name and asked back, 'Who are you?'"
The young man rattled of an illustrious Harvard name—patron of the library, giver of money.
"Well I showed him. 'Oh, yes,' I said. 'Wasn't it your grandfather who made his fortune selling rancid meat to our troops during the war?' The kid walked away and never bothered me again." My father remembers everything he reads. Good ammunition for sticky situations.

L I was always fascinated by what seemed to be my father's Dickensian childhood—growing up during the Depression, stealing to survive, hitchhiking across country at age 10, sneaking away to New York at age 13 to hear the jazz greats playing in Greenwich Village and Harlem, sleeping on the floor of Shepherd's Drug when he left home at age 12. But I know it couldn't have been fun, at least not all of it. Not the middle school teacher who took him into her house only to molest him at will, or the father who abandoned him because he thought my dad was the product of an affair, only to leave him with a resentful mother who took every opportunity she could to take her anger out on him―the mother I am named after.

M My father yelled, but he never hit us. That for him was an important distinction. I still remember a story he told us growing up. "When your brother was little, he misbehaved and I spanked him on the butt. But it wasn't your brother who cried. I was so upset I vowed never to lay a finger on any of you again." And he didn't.

N There is one more story I never heard. My sister told me last night—and I like to think that it's another of my father's exaggerations—that my father went through his whole life telling his mother how much he loved her. I never understood why he loved her so much, considering how she treated him, but he did. They were bosom buddies; they leaned on each other; they kept each other alive. But she never said the words back to him, no matter how many times he said "I love you, Mom." I was born when she was sick in the hospital. Before she died he said "I love you, and I named my daughter after you." We always heard those words growing up. He never did.

Getting Meaning From Context

Choose the correct synonym or meaning for each word from the selection. Use the paragraph letter to help you if necessary.


1	vignettes (paragraph A)
		A)	jokes
		B)	little stories
		C)	drinks
		D)	photographs


2	bucked (paragraph A)
		A)	accepted
		B)	understood
		C)	opposed
		D)	got upset


3	atheist (paragraph B)
		A)	protestant
		B)	someone who has strong faith in God
		C)	someone who is unhappy about his or her life
		D)	someone who believes that God does not exist


4	on (your) feet (paragraph H)
		A)	in a worse situation
		B)	standing up
		C)	needing help
		D)	in a better situation


5	underdog (paragraph H)
		A)	a lost dog
		B)	a powerful person with a lot of money
		C)	a friend
		D)	a person in a weak position in society


6	wretched (paragraph I)
		A)	unhappy
		B)	interesting
		C)	sick
		D)	misunderstood


7	eschewed (paragraph J)
		A)	wanted
		B)	liked
		C)	avoided
		D)	understood


8	shunned (paragraph J)
		A)	accepted
		B)	rejected
		C)	searched for
		D)	understood


9	illustrious (paragraph K)
		A)	angry
		B)	traditional
		C)	poor
		D)	famous


10	rancid (paragraph K)
		A)	fresh
		B)	rotten
		C)	tasty
		D)	expensive


11	bosom buddies (paragraph N)
		A)	close friends
		B)	unhappy people
		C)	women
		D)	family members

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