Column

On Father's day, learn some lessons from dad

By C.T. BOWEN Editor of Editorials
Published June 17, 2007

Denise Lauro-McKenzie remained single until her fourth decade. It took her a while to figure out why.

The men she knew or the ones she met didn't measure up to her father, Vito Lauro.

"I was looking for someone like my father, " said Lauro-McKenzie, "but there's only one man like him." And the lure of Roger McKenzie, the man she eventually married eight years ago? "I think I was attracted to him because he was so kind to my father."

It is the bond of fathers and daughters. Grown women address their mothers as "Mother, " but their fathers are "Daddy" or some other informal term of endearment. He is the protector, the comforter and the guy you call when you need something fixed.

Vito Lauro, Vic to the adults and Papa to the grandchildren, was a semiretired contractor in Port Richey. He passed away June 13, 2004, a week before Father's Day. His only daughter penned a tribute to read aloud at the service but was too distraught to deliver it. Her mother, Ann Lauro, keeps a copy of it - a single, lengthy paragraph typed in all upper case letters - in her pillbox.

She forwarded a copy to the Times as an unsolicited commentary in advance of Father's Day. A few other readers did likewise. But not all stir happy memories of getting Pop a necktie and sharing quality time together.

* * *

A Seven Springs man warned that the father in heaven would punish people who take pleasure in abusing fathers on Earth.

The motivation for Armenak Sarkissian's message is the custody dispute over his only grandchild. His son and wife separated a few years ago, just 35 days after the baby was born.

"There's no respect for marriage, no respect for families. The family structure is destroyed, " said Sarkissian, 66, a father of three adult children.

He worries about the lack of regard toward parents, even from adults.

"I've had some people tell me the only time they hear from (their kids) is when they need money."

* * *

Being a father to Mark Paulson of Port Richey means trying to hunt down the people selling drugs to his children: Kyle, 21, and Alyx, 19. Sam, the 15-year-old, is scared straight after seeing the affect of pills and cocaine on the siblings.

Carrie Paulson detailed the family's ordeal in a letter to the Times published Friday and in a subsequent interview.

"My husband is so hurt by the destruction of his children and being unable to let them out the front door without supervision at this age. A couple of times, he has gone out to find the people selling them drugs and that is just going to get the rest of us in even more trouble, " she said.

They've kicked out the kids. They've taken them back. They've sent them to relatives. They keep them under constant surveillance. They worry the kids will be exposed to drugs at work. For a while, the 21-year-old couldn't leave the house to walk the dog.

The definition of drug dealers, the Paulsons say, should include reckless doctors giving endless prescriptions for OxyContin, which are resold by the patients.

And, yes, the kids do appreciate the parents' effort, says Carrie Paulson.

"They're trying."

Mark Paulson said the advice he'd offer to other mothers and fathers is to not worry about being friends with your kids.

"Even if your kids hate you, if you don't feel good about something go with your gut instinct and keep them in the house."

* * *

"Sundays at my house, growing up, was about getting up late, having breakfast and watching old war movies or Abbot and Costello. There was no yelling or screaming in my house - at least not by my parents. It was usually me and (my brother) Steven. My memories are of laughter and a sense of safety."

It is how Lauro-McKenzie described her Long Island childhood in the unread testimonial.

"I'll miss his hugs mostly and the silly look on his face when he was being obstinate about something that really didn't matter."

Vic Lauro was a worrywart, his daughter said, fretting about anything and everything. She said he had a personal need to be needed.

It is a trait likely passed from Lauro to daughter. Is there a better way to honor your father than to mirror him?

You see, Denise Lauro-McKenzie is a social worker assisting the elderly, mentally disabled and mentally ill.

She helps other people with their worries.

[Last modified June 17, 2007, 08:06:30]