COMMENTARY: Even as a child, I was drawn to my quiet, gentle uncle, who possessed an enviable serenity.
When I reflect on my childhood, I realize how blessed I was to have been part of a large, loving family that not only included my beloved parents and two siblings but also extended to countless aunts, uncles and cousins, who lived in towns and cities north of Boston.
I was 12 years old before I had met every member of my extended family. That prompted this observation to my mother: “We have so many relatives, Mom, we could populate our own small country.” My mother, who strongly believed that a large family was a special blessing from God, was not amused by my comment.
My family comprised a fascinating variety of personalities who had no doubt about their identity. They proudly embraced their Catholic faith and Polish heritage.
Our family social gatherings, which routinely numbered 40 to 60 people, inevitably followed attendance at memorial Masses that were regularly said for deceased members of the clan at various churches and cathedrals. When I was a young boy, a church was like a second home to me.
The joy and laughter of these
