The life that my father worked to architect for my 3 siblings and I was one that could only be dreamt by the most extroverted of extroverts. At any given time, there were far more ducks, cats, dogs, kids, music, lawn equipment, noise-making toys, appliances, and activities than a single family home in upstate New York might have warranted, and left it as an outlier in an unequivocally introverted neighborhood. Most children go on to construct their own idealized worlds as adults, and our departure years later led him to find other ways to sustain the carnival. His fascination with antique chiming clocks became apparent after I left for college. His return from a trip to the black forest of Germany included a rosewood cuckoo clock that was roughly the size of a toaster that he hung proudly in our family room. The passing of his mother later left him with 2 grandfather-style clocks with large gonging chimes to complement his existing collection of 2. By my late twenties, a grand total of 8 regularly-chiming clocks had been dispersed and meticulously maintained throughout the house, and rendered any attempt to perform an act of concentration impossible - especially if such an act was to occur during the most fearsome strike of 12.
My father describes his introduction to my mother in the early 1970s as one of divine grace. He does not refute those who knew him from the time that characterize a derelict nearing self-destruction. Facing prospects of deployment in Vietnam, he recalls being a conflict-averse and life-loving young man whose inclination toward debauchery was one that might have led him to jail or worse. My mother, who is remembered as an obedient, school-oriented college student, was a saint by comparison. Her ability to see through his limited abilities for self preservation and find an affectionate, diligent and generous family man were among the reasons that she was able to demonstrate the patience required for a 40+ year marriage to continue to succeed today.
No matter how perfect a person might be perceived, being around them for a period like 40 years is not easy. The greatest lesson about compatibility that we learn from people like my parents is that it is only achieved when we stop looking for it. By finding ways to look past their faults, we achieve compatibility with the people in our lives by focusing on the attributes that we can admire and respect. Not every person we encounter will be able to move past the less desirable aspects of our character, but the ones that do can become the ones we hold on to.
My father describes his introduction to my mother in the early 1970s as one of divine grace. He does not refute those who knew him from the time that characterize a derelict nearing self-destruction. Facing prospects of deployment in Vietnam, he recalls being a conflict-averse and life-loving young man whose inclination toward debauchery was one that might have led him to jail or worse. My mother, who is remembered as an obedient, school-oriented college student, was a saint by comparison. Her ability to see through his limited abilities for self preservation and find an affectionate, diligent and generous family man were among the reasons that she was able to demonstrate the patience required for a 40+ year marriage to continue to succeed today.
No matter how perfect a person might be perceived, being around them for a period like 40 years is not easy. The greatest lesson about compatibility that we learn from people like my parents is that it is only achieved when we stop looking for it. By finding ways to look past their faults, we achieve compatibility with the people in our lives by focusing on the attributes that we can admire and respect. Not every person we encounter will be able to move past the less desirable aspects of our character, but the ones that do can become the ones we hold on to.