"Having a child is surely the most beautifully irrational act that two people in love can commit."
- Bill Cosby
At approximately 10:30 a.m., on July 3, 1980, Michael Richard Lucinski was born in a Niagara Falls hospital.
But enough of that. This story isn't about me.
The date is remarkable because at that moment, Richard and Teresa Lucinski became parents for the first time.
Married in May 1973, the Lucinskis experienced their formative years of wedding bliss free of babysitters, dirty diapers and midnight feedings. For reasons unfathomable they chose to end this and have a child.
The universe, deciding to throw a metaphorical pie into my parents' face, sprung the Love Canal crisis on them and America. Love Canal: toxic waste canisters dumped by Hooker Chemical in the 1940s and 1950s, then surrounded by residential neighborhoods - one of those neighborhoods around the now-leaking vessels containing Richard and Teresa.
Despite the national hysteria, activists like Lois Gibbs, Soviet spies, a visit from President Jimmy "The Mouth of the South" Carter and the threat of toxic contamination, Richard and Teresa continued to plan a family. Richard covered the crisis for local NBC affiliate WGRZ-TV.
Perhaps the lowest point was the doctor who told Teresa she should not have children - while she was pregnant. Setting a precedent that would stand for the next two decades, Richard and Teresa smashed through that adversity like Ted Kennedy plowing through a pier guardrail.
After their eldest son's birth, the local paper published a photograph of Richard gazing at his new child through the nursery observation glass. His expression is one of love for his boy and his wife. Family photographs reveal the same expression on Teresa's face.
What cannot be seen is their utter lack of knowledge about the mechanics of child care.
Example: Richard had to purchase clothes for the baby before he came home. There were none in the house. Why? "We just thought babies came with clothes," Teresa would remark with a shrug in later years.
But practice makes perfect. And they did practice. Whether it be baby formula heated too much or leaving the infant vulnerable to the pull of gravity by dropping him, the learning curve was sharp, but the Lucinskis were quick studies.
Like every set of new parents, they marveled at the tiniest trivialities accomplished by their son. Digit manipulation was the equivalent of Nobel-prize winning chemistry. Gurgling while putting his foot in his mouth? More glorious than a Shakespearian sonnet.
Baubles and trinkets showered down upon Michael and his brother Steven, who burst forth on the scene in his sleepy glory two years later. Teresa knew the name of virtually every "Star Wars" character immortalized in plastic. Richard brought back jelly-bean-filled miniature elephants from the 1984 Republican convention in Dallas.
Even the most incompetent, leave-the-kids-with-the-pit-bull-while-I-scratch-my-ass-and-watch-"Ricki" parents can provide material comforts for their children. Trust funds, or food stamps on the other end of the spectrum, are alone insufficient to properly raise a child or multiple versions thereof.
It's the intent behind the action that counts. After a special birthday Frisbee went astray into the backyard creek during its inaugural flight, Richard waded into the slime and muck to recover it. A failed effort, but a valiant gesture.
Teresa would make her boys costumes for Halloween. The characters ranged from Santa Claus to a G.I. Joe dude to a Decepticon that looked like a tinfoil-wrapped baked potato with eyes. Virtually all the costumes were handmade. Sure, a store-bought light saber was necessary to complete the Luke Skywalker outfit, but only because George Lucas wouldn't return her calls regarding the construction of one.
Parenting requires supreme effort to guard against unwanted influences. Richard and Teresa pre-screened "Return of the Jedi" to ensure no scene was too intense for their three year old. Notice no superfluous "V"-chip was necessary. (They ended up taking Michael about 45 minutes late to the movie to avoid the Rancor and Sarlacc Pit scenes. They were correct to do so. Years later, the Rancor would still scare Michael. Not anymore, by the way.)
The years slowly rolled past and the world changed. The Cold War ended, followed by an uneasy, decade-long peace now shattered like a drinking glass hurled by a petulant child. Underdogs and favorite sons have risen to the presidency while a congressional revolution was consumed by the fires that created it. And a little city at the western-most tip of the Empire State had its collective heart broken too many times to contemplate.
Through it all Richard and Teresa raised their sons, not with how-to books designed to line the pockets of others or with Oprah, but through instinct guided by decent hearts. They taught their now-adult sons how to be good persons. They instilled the value of hard work and seeing things through to the end. If more parents were like them, the resulting world would be glorious.
My brother and I owe a tremendous debt to our parents, one that never can be fully paid. While this 800-plus word column by itself is inadequate, it's a start.
Thank you, to both of you. I love you.
To those of you not my parents, good luck with finals. Have safe and happy holidays. See you next semester.
