- Feb 5, 2002
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My brother and I were hand reared by my sainted mother, in that she frequently slapped us for our misdemeanors. I can’t recall being spanked but doubtless that occurred when we were young. The slaps never hurt, but they got our attention and caused us to stop what raised our Mom’s ire.
Mom was pure Irish with fire red hair. She loved us with all that was within her. That love caused her to hug us and slap us frequently. Dad was the supreme authority in the house. He rarely had to raise his voice to get our attention and obedience, which sometimes bemused Mom, but since he was the love of her life she accepted our different attitudes towards them with a shrug. It was a loving family and sometime my brother and I and our Mom expressed our love with a trilogy of simultaneous monologues, all of us having a gift for gab. I think that bemused and amused our quiet Dad.
In 1966 my maternal grandmother from Newfoundland, Alice Moore, along with our step grandfather Dyke Moore, visited us in Paris, Illinois. We loved Alice and Dyke, our earliest memories being of our parents and us living in their house in Saint John’s. Alice was a formidable woman, just like her daughter, also having fire red hair. During their visit Alice called my Mom a savage when she witnessed her slap me, no doubt a slap I had richly earned. My Mom was quick witted and quick tongued, she would have made a formidable trial attorney. She responded instantly that if she did not discipline me now, I would grow up to be the savage, respecting no one or nothing.
Continued below.
the-american-catholic.com
Mom was pure Irish with fire red hair. She loved us with all that was within her. That love caused her to hug us and slap us frequently. Dad was the supreme authority in the house. He rarely had to raise his voice to get our attention and obedience, which sometimes bemused Mom, but since he was the love of her life she accepted our different attitudes towards them with a shrug. It was a loving family and sometime my brother and I and our Mom expressed our love with a trilogy of simultaneous monologues, all of us having a gift for gab. I think that bemused and amused our quiet Dad.
In 1966 my maternal grandmother from Newfoundland, Alice Moore, along with our step grandfather Dyke Moore, visited us in Paris, Illinois. We loved Alice and Dyke, our earliest memories being of our parents and us living in their house in Saint John’s. Alice was a formidable woman, just like her daughter, also having fire red hair. During their visit Alice called my Mom a savage when she witnessed her slap me, no doubt a slap I had richly earned. My Mom was quick witted and quick tongued, she would have made a formidable trial attorney. She responded instantly that if she did not discipline me now, I would grow up to be the savage, respecting no one or nothing.
Continued below.
Lady Justice – The American Catholic
the-american-catholic.com
