Charles (Chuck) Kensinger

I like to ask people if they have looked in the mirror and seen one of their parents. I am not trying to insult them by saying that they are getting old. That would not be an insult, by the way. There is only one way to avoid becoming older: die now. Death is inevitable, and aging is as well.

If I did not have a good relationship with both of my parents, I would not bring them up in this way. My Dad was not intelligent in the normal way that I think of the word. He never wrote a book, graduated from college, or even high school. He was a city boy and served his country in World War II the best he could.

He was a swabby in the Navy on a repair ship. Yes, he was drafted and assigned to the US Navy. When I thought I might be drafted, I was also talking to them during the Vietnam conflict. I wanted to travel to the Far East but not under government invitation. I wanted to be assigned as a journalist on the front lines.

Dad did his job, came home to Springfield, Missouri, and married our mother. She had to lie about her education to get a factory job that only required a high school diploma. She did not have that either. Dad drove a truck, and Mom had been a waitress and cook in cafes before Zenith hired her.

I can’t drive a truck. Read my column, “I watched a truck driver today,” for more on this. I can cook and started my working career as a fry cook. I ended it as a purchasing manager, was an operations manager for a company I spent twenty-five years with, and graduated with a BA. This was all thanks to their example.

I am not my parents; however, I love them dearly, think of them often, and frequently comment on them in these articles and in my books. Without them, I would not be who I am. The best parts of me are due to them and their influence. My hope is that after reading this, you will say the same of yours.

They were not perfect or spectacular. They never did anything more than what most of us do: work, raise a family, and obey the law most of the time. They never did illegal drugs, drank alcohol to excess, or were arrested. They both served on juries when summoned and took us to church and accepted Jesus as their Lord and Savior.

That will not get you the parent of the year award from anyone except your own kids and sometimes not even them. That is the point of this column. What have you done lately to honor your folks? Maybe your parents were abusive and failed you miserably. I’m sorry if that is your story. Mine did not.

I recently spent some time with a professional counselor, and she did, like they all do, try to help us with our problems. She asked about them and my relationship with them growing up, abuse, and substance abuse. There is nothing in my experience in their home that is anything to cause me the difficulties I am having.

Professional counseling is often called for when we are dealing with life’s troubles. Don’t avoid it if you need it. Find a trained and qualified professional who is a good fit with you. Let them direct you to handle your issues, whatever they may be. I’m working on mine, and I hope your parents and you do the same.

©Copyright 2026 by Charles Kensinger