My Father's Advice

Today is my father’s birthday. He would have been 109 years old, an age which I can barely comprehend. He died in 1978, younger then than I am now, and I still miss him every day. But today I revisited a few letters he wrote to his brother Joe during World War II, while Joe was stationed at the Pacific front. My father was the eldest son, had served briefly in the Army, and was at this point home tending to his frail mother. In his diligent way, he took on the duty of writing to Joe almost daily, to encourage him, distract him, and boost his morale. When I read these letters now, I feel like he is talking to me. His advice and wisdom are very applicable, especially in the current moment. Here are two exceprts:

“Dear Pal, How are you doing? Hope the food improves and that you’ll never let despair set in. Fight it in its beginning and you will never give it a chance to grow. Never let the mind grow dull. Always think in terms of useful diversion, or ways to improve your status, health, and morale. Always remember this is only a temporary and short phase of your life and best to be taken as lightly as possible. Otherwise time will drag on leaden feet.”

Also:

“It’s Sunday, One of those Sundays I love. John is out on a tour of the movies. Mom is at Aunt Nettie’s. I am alone listening to opera. This aloneness and the music gives me a chance for complete mental relaxation. It also fills me with an ennobling sense, destroys the push of the relentless misguided fight for commercial profit, the endless lies, half believed even by the giver, the scheming, for all that is sordid but yet so necessary in modern life. Twenty years of this produces the modern man, sharp, alert, immune to kindness and pity, calculating, unbending in his quest for more and more at the price of less and less in his soul. Gone therefore becomes the appreciation of things beautiful and enduring, the end and all becomes the profit sheet – all else becomes a waste of time and money. I sometimes wonder if it is worth the cost to achieve material wealth. I see clearly the chances for making real money lie to the side of the ruthless and devastating.”

So that’s my father. Makes me walk a little taller, shine a little brighter. May I never be immune to kindness or lose my appreciation for beauty.

I am going to listen to some opera today.