Seidemann: The right kind of parent

From the other side of the bench

by David Seidemann

Issue of January 1, 2010/ 15 Tevet 5770

What a week. No matter where you turned it seemed that the news revolved around parents and children. In Colorado, the “balloon boy” had his prankster parents sentenced to jail; in Brazil, a father’s five-year fight to have his son returned to him finally ended with their reunion. In a more local story, a little girl climbed onto the roof of her apartment building and left fresh footprints in the snow before meeting an untimely end. Investigators do not suspect any foul play in that tragedy; there was just one set of footprints.

We saw the entire spectrum of child rearing in one 24-hour news cycle. We saw a father who would go to the end of the world to build a relationship with his son. We saw parental behavior so reckless, so inappropriate, and so detrimental to their children’s upbringing, that incarceration was necessary. And we saw a child who walked this world alone, if not for her entire life then at least when it mattered most.

The Torah is filled with dramatic stories. But if you ask me, the most dramatic of all is this past week’s portion where Joseph is finally reunited with his brothers and father. Every year I’m fascinated and mesmerized by the amount of raw emotion expressed in the verses. Imagine the lump in Joseph’s throat as he choked back tears when he first recognized his brothers but they did not recognize him. Imagine the beating of his heart as he tried not to break down when he saw his baby brother Benjamin for the first time in years. Imagine the explosion of tears when he could not hold back anymore, and the hugs, kisses and sobbing that took place, as well as the shame, guilt and forgiveness that ensued. Imagine the joy, the ecstasy and the relief when father and son were reunited, when the father’s lessons to his children were finally understood; when a child no longer had to walk alone, no longer had to be the only footprints in the snow — or sand as the case might be.

Years ago, I participated in the “final respects” for an elderly gentleman. I thought I knew all of the important aspects of his life but was shocked when a middle-aged man introduced himself to me as the son of deceased. Not once had I seen this son before that day. Not once over the years did this elderly gentleman mention to me that he had a son. Where each man walked, he walked alone. Instead of four footprints, there was always just two.

Just a few miles from where I live there’s an elderly Jewish man who lives alone. His three children never invite him to their homes and they never visit their father in his. There are no shared High Holy days, and there are no family Passover Seders that he is invited to. Not to worry, for he is not alone. He has lovely Catholic neighbors who invite him for every Easter and Christmas dinner. The lovely Italian woman who hosts him for those meals recently remarked that if this man’s children have the nerve to cry at his funeral one day she will inform all those in attendance of the truth.

So which father or mother are we? Are we engaged in a balloon hoax — behavior that leads our children on a false flight through life? Are we reckless with the truth, instructing them to do as we say but not as we do? Do we live by the books that we urge them to read?

Do we send them out there to do battle without proper support and fortification? Do we make them walk alone without the feeling that another pair of feet are but a step away? Conversely, do we make them feel that we would go to the end of the world for them, like David Goldman did for his son, Sean — never surrendering to any force that would drive a wedge between parent and child?

And what kind of children are we? Do we realize that we are still “children” — even at 35, 45, 55 or older? Are we so intent on independence that we reject the advice of our parents? Are we so focused on our own two feet that we fail to make room on our life’s path for two or four more experienced feet?

Do we make our parents walk alone like that little girl on the rooftop because we believe it’s a parent’s job to take care of children and not the other way around? Do our parents walk alone because we’re too busy taking care of our own children to take care of the people who cared for us when we were children? Are we too busy demanding honor and respect from our own children to have the emotional clarity to honor and respect our parents?

Do we remember that no matter how old our parents might be, that they still smile at our success, hurt when we fail, and cringe when we veer off the trail they blazed for us? Do we remember all that they did for us while we moan about all that we still must do for our children? Do we realize that they did a lot more with so much less?

Do we recognize that nothing would give them greater joy than brothers who unite, even after years of struggle and strife? If we can’t imagine a day without embracing our children then how can we expect our parents to endure days without seeing or at least speaking to us, their children?

Guilt is not the impetus for this column. I come from a large, intact family in which we always have communicated frequently. When we were younger and away at high school or college, my father and mother would write us letters every week keeping us informed about what was going on at home. Those letters spanned some 25 years, hundreds and hundreds of letters sent by my parents, not only to us children but to their own parents even when their parents were in their 90s. These days, we communicate by e-mail and telephone, sharing the escapades of the next generation.

No, it is not guilt or remorse about missed opportunities. Rather it is joy - joy that I believe my family is following in the footsteps of our parents. The impetus for this column is to let my father know as he celebrates a milestone birthday this week, that you taught us well and that while we all treasure being parents, we value just as much being your children.

David Seidemann is a partner with the law firm of Seidemann & Mermelstein.  He can be reached at (718) 692-1013 and at ds@lawofficesm.com.