My parents built their lives around the demons they inherited in their youth and their addictions. The driving force that directed the events of their lives, and by extension the lives of their daughters, resulted in numerous unintended consequences. My sister and I were raised in a world of excess, crime, and consequences. We understood that for every action there was a price to pay. Our parents never sugarcoated their crimes and they never denied their faults. I loved both my parents in spite of their many flaws. Although I spent decades trying to understand the paths they chose, I finally arrived at acceptance. They were what they were—they were my greatest teachers.
My mother taught me many of life’s most important lessons. Her unending anger and deep mistrust, refusal to let go of resentment, and inability to admit wrongs showed me what I did not want in my life. These powerful and destructive personality traits made me aware of the need to deal with the demons of my own past. Watching her self-destruct into an increasingly isolated prison of her own making informed my life in profound ways. Through her inflexible example, I learned that love and forgiveness are the most powerful and liberating of forces.
Bonnie’s defiance and her refusal to receive or give emotionally to her family and friends ultimately destroyed her life and almost destroyed her daughters. Her death in 2006 left me with a flood of unresolved emotions. I focus now on her positive attributes: her fabulous sense of humor, inquisitive mind, and creative energy. I remember her fearlessness, her astute sense of justice, and her childish delight in God’s furry creatures. I will forever marvel at her wild spirit and forever grieve for the wounded and abandoned inner child who ruled my mother’s life.
From my father, I inherited a love of life and a childlike glee over life’s joys. He shared with me his positive attitude, which emerged even in the darkest of times. For all his criminal activities, my father was also a man of great compassion and generosity. He never turned away from those in need. His desire to do good was just as intense as his penchant for living a life of crime. I also learned from his monstrous struggles. The destructive force of my father’s addictions remains with me on a daily basis. Through the example of his life, I am forever reminded that moderation is the key to a healthy life.
For all the illogical decisions Big Al made during his life, he had a perspicacity that took years for me to recognize. His warnings about the political world were right on target, as were his views about the dangers of legitimate “Wall Street bookies.” It was his concern about my naïveté that took me years to understand. My most difficult lesson was in realizing that the idealized legitimate world I had constructed in my youth does not reside separate from the criminal world. They are, in fact, deeply entwined. Con artists, sexual predators, thieves, violent monsters, and master manipulators reside in every neighborhood and in most work environments. Unfortunately, they too often dwell behind masks of respectability.
There resides in me an element of pride in my father’s refusal to deny his crimes or hide behind a veneer of moral hypocrisy. He was a bad boy who made no excuses for his behavior. He did not attempt to hide his faults. The consequences of his actions demonstrated to his daughters that we had choices in our lives. What was “normal” for our parents need not be the blueprint for our own lives. An awareness of the abnormality of our family dynamics and our parents’ addictions served as a roadmap and a promise for a different kind of future. Although we build our lives on the bone yard of our past and stand the sum total of our experiences, the past does not necessarily have to define us, or the future we build. An awareness of choice is a powerful tool in forming the future.
As for me, I am a work in progress, navigating this wonderful mess called life and looking forward to the adventure, the possibilities, and the lessons that await me in my eighth and subsequent renewals.
Big Al senior year high school (1949)
Big Al with boxing legend Sugar Ray Robinson
Author watching the family store
Author and older sister Vanessa
Bonnie enjoying a night out.
Big Al and Bonnie during a cease-fire.
Author around the time of the Skin Runner incident (79-80)
Author with the Speaker of the House, Tip O’Neill (1983)
Author and Vanessa