Putting words in the mouth of our Clan Founder is dangerous territory, and that is why we confine ourselves to the trove of thoughts he left for us in the archives of our family publication whenever we ponder what he would have done or what kind of leadership he would have provided to us in the face of a current dilemma. Nevertheless, I will dare to venture a bit into that territory and seek to characterize something he demonstrated profoundly, and, to my knowledge or recollection, never specifically spelled out in Clandestiny. The need for this arises from remarks at our recent Council that suggested we attempt to measure or take into account relative disparities in service to Grammo or Clan. I might be wrong, but it is important for people to know what I think. The Grandy-bo I remember would have shut down such discussions with a brand of finality that only he could introduce into family deliberations. Why do I believe this? Is it because he did that very thing on one or more occasions which now I cannot pinpoint? Perhaps so, but it is more likely that I hold this view based on the principles he put into evident practice through years of consistent behavior. He was a complex person, with many facets of high character, plus faults like any man, but there are three points of his nuclear-family conduct which stand out in memory and that are relevant to my concern:
He did not play favorites.
He did not hold a grudge.
He did not keep score.
We can only speculate about how he came to these convictions, or if they were an innate aspect of his personality, but they shaped our entire upbringing and also, I think, his vision of how the Clan could survive into the future without rancor, faction, and subterfuge. At its core, it is almost a kind of divine balance that eludes so many others in our society and world. It is a rejection of the extremist temptation. It is a hostility to the easy path that jumps to a false sense of justice and turns away from the more difficult work of discernment that integrates seemingly contrasting forces: the emotional and the rational, or the individual and the community. At the macro level, it is why so-called leaders allow ideologies to inhibit solutions that are both heartfelt and intelligent. Nearly all of them have lost sight of how the microcosm of the healthy family provides the key. They fail to see how the capitalist, private enterprise approach can become a corrosive force without integrity and compassion, or the humanistic, communitarian approach can slide toward the collective repression of individual destinies. Of course, one could choose to frame these ideas in spiritual or religious language, but I like to remind myself that although my father was a religious man, and was qualified to teach Roman Catholic doctrine, he had the great attribute of being able to express himself without a resort to denominational concepts, or even traditionally Christian terminology. Maybe that was the reason he could communicate “heavy” ideas to a wide variety of individuals in such an accessible, universal manner. That is why he would gain the respect of young and old, or priests, generals, teachers, executives, and farmers.
There is another principle he emphasized. He may have spelled this one out, somewhere in the volumes of Clandestiny, but it is always timely to recall the tone of his voice when he stated:
Fool me once, shame on me. Fool me twice, shame on you.
To me, he was saying that everyone deserves a second chance, with the implication that a first mistake reflects to some degree on the capacity of the guardian, leader, or mentor. After the support of a second chance, if a repeat of the same mistake occurs, the so-called “tough love” would kick in. Accountability now falls to the author of the error. All one can do is pray and let others experience the consequences of their actions. They are still loved. They are not cast out. They are, however, left to bear the brunt of their poor choices and the rejection of the support system that provided initial help. The more harsh lesson must now be learned. It is a difficult thing for everyone involved, but there are times when intervening to protect loved ones from themselves is the lesser form of compassion. It is easy in such situations to ask the question, “What Would Dadbo Do?” (WWDD), and so much harder to let his example infuse our own judgment. And I do not mean to suggest that Mombo did not reflect and reinforce all of these principles in her own more quiet way. What we would now give to bring these issues before her and consult a lifetime of wisdom that is no longer available! It is an ongoing sorrow that we are required to bear.
We shall, and do our best each day.
