An essay by a liberal son of a conservative father

An interesting bit of insight, posted at Counterpunch:

He had sympathy, as they say, but not so much that he’d vote for paying more taxes. This world view and the wealth he left behind go hand in hand, and in the main I reject his world view. Without condition, I loved the man but hated his philosophy, and now I am faced with inheriting some of his hard-earned money...

His father’s abandonment of his mother and two siblings during the Great Depression drove the family into poverty, and my father, who consequently went to work delivering papers to help pay for groceries, was deeply traumatized. He could never have, and would never feel in the future that he had, enough money to ensure his own and his family’s security...

His loving nature aside, when it came to money, my father seemed to me the force of evil in the house, my mother the embodiment of good. He did let go of money, but not freely, never without reminding my mother or his kids that money does not grow on trees. By defending his wealth from friend and foe alike, he left no doubt who was in control; he and he alone held the power of the purse and, by extension, absolute power. And it was that power-mongering, intentional or not, that made me angry and dismissive of his wealth, despite the fact that I was a principal beneficiary...

In the months since [his death], in order to ensure my surviving mother’s financial security and to protect my own and my siblings’ inheritance, I’ve had quickly to immerse myself in my dad’s world, in the language of corporate business... I have had learn to talk the talk. Add on the worst economic crisis since the 1930s, and I’m even experiencing a small but direct dose of my dad’s old Depression-era fear...

Naturally, I believe I am conserving for the benefit of all, for the many—my mother, my siblings and their children, as well as for me, my wife and my daughter. The selfish motive is there, to be sure, but the altruistic impulse is strong, and the tension between the two, which has animated my body from the moment I took post-mortem possession of dad’s wallet, makes me feel my father differently...

A well thought-out essay. Much more at the link.