A MOTHER'S SON
A Mother's Son - A new Gospel according to
A Family Saga: Comments from a "Son's Father"
Through every chapter and verse in this book, the
evangelist weaves a tapestry of love as he opens the vaults of his soul
to give us a real treasure. Such riches are being proudly displayed in
the walls of my heart.
I'm happy to openly express here my own feelings
after reading this epic. It's a family tradition to put things down in
writing, so I'm just trying to do that while using my adopted English
language. Give me a passing "E" for effort.
"A Mother's Son" is one man's account of what he
saw and felt along his way as he pauses for a moment somewhere in the
middle of his life's journey. He is not preaching much less
white-washing the family's shortcomings. He is plainly telling it "like
it is", or was. No cliches, no phony heroics. Just the simple facts,
adding some musings about his walk along his side of the street.
Never have I read anything so touching, so
absorbing and so beautifully written. Not a self-serving exercise or an
ego trip, it deals with the nuts-and-bolts of life. The gifted writer
with his crafty mechanic's instincts looks under the hood, and takes
the engine apart, maybe to see what made it run. Eddie always had a
curious, inquiring mind. The end result, in this case, is a masterpiece
of honest reporting of a family's joys and sorrows, of its ups and
downs, of its smiles and tears. The clever scribe introduces you to a
family held together by a different brand of glue not found in your
Some of those mentioned in this saga may want to
suggest some corrections in the facts as seen by the scribe. Although
my name is generously sprinkled throughout the book, I have no
suggestions or requests for any changes.
Evangelist Edson saw me with all my scars and
warts, and reported on me, as on others, from his own perspective.
Indeed, without trying to lecture to me, he showed this old dog some
new tricks. I'm thankful for that.
I'm sure he did the same when relating to his
brother, sisters and friends. His portrait of his mother is as accurate
as few could paint her complexities.
Good writing is obvious to those concerned with
such things. Honest reporting is clear to me who was very much part of
all the Jordans and Jerichos and Samarias so vividly described by the
evangelist in this monumental work of love. I was there through most of
it, and I can confirm that "it was so".
To my son Edson, this is my public acceptance of my
own failings and my public tribute to the lady who helped mold this
extraordinary man. Our Muncie would happily slobber him with a thousand
kisses if she were here today to congratulate him on this detailed
account of things around our Mayor's home and elsewhere.
Write on, Eddie! Make all of us proud to be part of
this ordinary family and its extraordinary struggles through our
victories and defeats. Of course, we also had our mini civil wars. You
did not look for heroes or villains in the history of our lives. You
simply pointed out our strengths and our weaknesses.
In particular, let me say that you portrayed your
mother as nobody else could. You grew up at close range to her special
kind of loving, and you did not fail to see her dedication to each of
us in the home. I'm particularly happy to see that you did not fail to
notice that Muncie and I loved each other very deeply. My world has
been quite empty without her. All of us miss her.
When the others in our family read your book, I
pray they will applaud with me your courage to bring out into the sun
the complete family laundry. If there were stained diapers or worn out
shirts, there were also bright dresses in all colors of the rainbow,
silk bows and rare Madeira embroidery in the finest needlework ever
Finally, I must apologize for having taken all of
you through the Stations of the Cross in my moving the family around
the world but how else could you have written such a touching and
beautiful book if we had just stayed nailed down at Flushing? Besides I
wanted you to have a taste of the big world out there, the world in
which I was plying my trade, often sailing against the wind. It was a
risky world, and it was unforgiving to the faint of heart but it was
most exciting. It also allowed me to bring home the bacon, or was it
spaghetti and meat-balls? I still enjoy sailing my old gemstone routes,
and soon I shall be setting sail to the South Atlantic waters.
I love you, Son, as I love my other children. I
love you as I loved the pretty Pittsburgh princess who allowed this
jumping Brazilian frog into her life. Our joint enterprise was built
around all of you, and that's why it was possible for us, two ordinary
people, to have experienced such extraordinary things in life. Thanks
from me to all of you. Thanks from all us to our precious and loving
Muncie. Your book, Eddie, is a fitting memorial to the iron-willed Lady
who was hiding deep inside her a soft, loving heart that very few
people ever came to know. We were lucky to have been part of Muncie's
Big Show so well chronicled in your book. Her memory will live on among
us who so loved her. You have returned her to us in your book.
Welcome home, Muncie! The Carmona set is waiting
for you. Tell us again all about Jeff Davis and Varina.
With much love,