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Books are convenient instruments to set forth and preserve facts, history,
stories, opinion, humor, pictures, and more. Why this book? All the above.
Let me explain.
At the time that these words are written, I will next advance to the age
of ninety-six. In 2012, I lost my first wife, Shirley. At that time, we were
approaching our fifty-third wedding anniversary of a marriage in which three
children have blessed it with five grandchildren. In 2020 I married Mildred
“Millie” Hathorn, an event written about in a dedicated chapter.
This book is directed to my grandchildren as my convenient instrument to
tell them through a series of essays, who I am. Because who I am in great
measure is who they are. And also, this book is dedicated to Millie about who
I was.
Much is written today about the break-down of the family, and rightfully
so, because for many the organizational structure known as 'family' is
broken. And it is here that a distinction must be made. An individual family
member of a dysfunctional family should not be labeled the 'broken' element,
the family structure is! The individual family member is like the bumper
sticker describes, 'God doesn't make trash!' Today, social scientists advance
all kinds of theories and remedies about restoring the American family. Yet,
I believe they miss the big one, namely, inculcating the pride of family.
When I was a child, we visited family. Boy did we visit family. I never
knew I had so much family. When I would complain that 'I didn't even know
such-and-such person,' my parents would tell me that they were a second
cousin on my mother's side, or something like that. A few years ago, my wife
and I visited Dugenta, the town in Italy where my parents spent their youth.
Again, we visited family, and more family. Then it dawned on me! My entire
life had been exposed to 'family' in the Italian tradition of a very big
circle, as contrasted to 'family' in the American tradition, of a small
circle. Because of a lack of knowledge of one's family we have drawn the
family circle closer as one draws a shawl tighter around the shoulders. It is
a forbidding posture.
Here, I open my “writing” arms to Millie and my grandchildren.
A welcoming posture. Come read about Paw Paw.
"To know him is to love him."
Simeo Gallo
Updated April 2025
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