It’s Father’s Day. Dad is on my mind. Born September 5th, 1912, he was 46 1/2 when I was born, the youngest of his five. He was third in birth order, one of twelve siblings. What a boisterous group they were!
Salvatore L. Caraco was sweet in demeanor. For him, family was everything. He was quietly reverent. Mom and dad didn’t talk much about God at home, but we said our prayers before going to bed. We went to church on Sundays and some Holy Days of Obligation. Dad was an usher and took the collection and brought the gifts to the altar.
He worked the night shift, factory laborer, twelve hours per shift 6pm to 6am often Monday through Saturday until his heart began to fail, was 1968, or 1969, I can’t remember. He never complained or blamed Mr. Evans, the owner of LEE DYE, Inc. He was grateful to be able to earn a living. He found wealth and abundance in family. His siblings and in-laws were his dearest friends. His children were his joy. And, because my brother Carm and his wife Michele started things early, Sam got to snuggle two grandchildren.
He only drove Chrysler products. Always a Dodge.
Sam never drank to intoxication. One beer with supper, always pouring a little bit in my glass. I sat to his right at the table. His was a social smoker. When Dr. Shannon told to stop smoking, he took the Raleigh’s out of his shirt pocket, put the half finished pack in the top dresser drawer. He never touched them again.
The last three to four years he was on Social Security Disability, while Mom worked in a glove factory. We had some rental income from apartments houses. We were getting by. The end came in November 1972, he was just 60. I feel him to this day. He’s my motivation. He’s why I don’t quit. I wear his black onyx ring with a diamond chip, that glints a mini spectrum of color in the sunlight. That’s Sam, that’s Dad saying, “I’m sorry I left you at age 14. But, your mother finished raising you the way I would have. Always be good, for nothing”.
Happy Father’s Day.
