I SAW this question on Facebook the other day, “What one thing did your father teach you?” It’s almost impossible to name just one thing because Papa has taught us so many things. So I will pick two—frugality and value for money.
Oh yes—long before the terms reduce, reuse and recycle became popular and politically correct, we were already religious practitioners of environmental conservation in our household.
But we are really environmentalists by accident. You see, while my father has never believed in the concept of single-use plastic or paper, he trained us to recycle not to save the environment but to save money.
He would regularly pick through our trash and bring back into the house stuff we had mindlessly tossed—used paper, plastic, folders, boxes, envelopes and anything else he felt could still be reused and recycled.
My father can find a way to repurpose practically anything. And this ability to recognize the functionality of stuff most people would classify as trash, I think, was borne out of necessity.
During the war, he told us that they had to make do with anything they could find. And they had to come up with ways to convert their find into a commercial endeavor in order to survive.
When we were young, Papa tried to brainwash us into thinking that “cheapest was best.” It wasn’t long before we were on to him. Still, when I look back, I smile at how clever Papa was at trying to make his children delirious with what he could afford.
As the years passed, Papa was eventually able to give us all that we desired. And it gave him much joy to be able to give us what we wanted. So while my father’s frugality is legendary, I have to say, so is his generosity.
To this day, he is generous to others but remains frugal for himself.
But the apples don’t fall far from the tree.
On a family vacation in Europe some 10 years ago, my mother wanted some bottled water and was wondering why it was taking us so long to get it. She later found out that we were busy looking for a supermarket because we refused to buy the higher-priced bottled water in all the convenience stores nearby.
I used to scoff at my father lecturing us about carelessly tossing stuff into the trash bin—stuff which he deemed still usable. You can probably guess who’s giving the lectures now.
Never knew this day would come but today, I regularly pick through the “paper recycling bin” in our house—the paper that goes into the shredder to become packing materials for my sister’s stores.
I often ask aloud, “Who threw this in? The backside of this paper has not been used. This is NOT going to the shredder.”
The brainwashing was effective, Pa. We publicly admit this today as our birthday present to you. Despite our differences, we have incredibly morphed into you.
Happy 94th birthday, Pa.