Josephine and Spartaco

I am 68 years old, and there is not a day that goes by that I don’t think of my parents. (My mother died in December, 1991, and my father in the autumn of 1995.) I don’t know if this is unusual for someone my age, if it is because I was an only child, or if it is because I am such a sentimental softy. I suspect the real reason is because they were such remarkable people, and that they gave me so much. Ironically, with all the writing that I do, writing about them is very difficult for me. Perhaps because I’m afraid I will not do them the justice they deserve.

What follows is one way around this obstacle.

THIS I BELIEVE

I believe that I am the person I am because of my mother and father.

I believe that what I have accomplished of any worth, and may yet accomplish, is due to my parents.

I believe that anything of value that I may pass on to my children is simply what my parents gave to me.

I believe my parents taught me about love. They taught me about tolerance and forgiveness, and they taught me about humility. My parents showed me that a person of worth treats everyone with the same respect and warmth and that your behavior toward others is not determined by their socioeconomic status.

I believe that the greatest of the many gifts they bestowed upon me was a sense
of self worth and self esteem, which have allowed me to take the paths I have followed in my life.

I believe that my life is a reflection on my mother and father, and therefore attempt to conduct myself in a way that will honor them. I want to be worthy of the gifts they gave me.

I believe all of this with every fiber of my being.