Michael Malpiedi
It's not What you Say. . .it's What you Do!
Going back to our earliest memories, we have all been taught to believe in something. Our parents taught us to believe in family, religion and respect. Our educators taught us to believe in knowledge, discipline and structure. Our friends taught us to believe in trust, brotherhood and love.
By the time we reach adulthood, we are filled with beliefs. In all reality, many of these beliefs are learned instead of formed. By the time we've formulated our own set of beliefs, we've married, started a family and perpetuated the cycle by instilling these beliefs in our children.
Don't get me wrong. I'm not saying that learned beliefs are wrong. They are symbolic of the environment in which we were raised and become a very big part of who we are. However, I don't think we realize the impact of those beliefs until we have become adults ourselves. I still vividly remember my parents saying "someday when you're older you'll understand" or "wait until you have children of your own and we'll have this conversation". Statements that seemed as pointless as the arguments we were having...at the time.
It wasn't until life threw me a curve and my beliefs were shaken that I made a conscious effort to really understand what I believed.
My mother died suddenly in 1999. I decided the minute I received that phone call that I somehow needed everyone to see her through my eyes. At her funeral, I stood at the pulpit and explained to the congregation that if a historian reviewed her life, she would be deemed an ordinary woman. She grew up in a middle class family, married, had children and became a housewife and mother. It wasn't what she did that made her so special, it was how she lived. Her personality would never dominate a conversation and her presence would never stand out in a crowd. But, from my earliest memories, my mother lived for her family. When my grandfather died, she gave up the home that was built for her and moved our family to care for my blind grandmother, her mother-in-law. She battled cancer and heart disease, yet was always more concerned about her children and grandchildren than herself.
My mother taught me to always look for the good in others...to never be ashamed to show emotion...to give everyone the benefit of the doubt. She taught me that family was the most important thing and that true love never has conditions. She taught me that you can care for others without loosing yourself. My mother didn't verbalize any of these things; it was the way in which she lived.
I still mourn her to this day, and I think it is largely due to the fact that I wasn't done learning. I still see her face and remember her ways. I find myself trying to evaluate situation through her eyes. I may not have my mother's patience or calm demeanor. I may not have her unquestionable faith or unconditional love, but I am a better person because I had someone to emulate that possessed such great poise and garnered such great respect and love.
Although I'd like to think my beliefs are uniquely my own, they are a compilation of what I have witnessed, what I have learned and what I aspire to be. I don't wear them or recite them or preach them... I live them. Now that my children are making decisions for themselves, I can only hope that their beliefs are built on a similar foundation of love, faith and respect that they have witnessed through their mother and me.
About Mr. Malpiedi
Mr. Malpiedi '81 has been President of the Mercyhurst College Alumni Association since 2001, and serves on the Board of Trustees as well. He and his wife have three adolescent/young adult children. He is General Sales Manager of Connoisseur Media. His favorite aspect about Mercyhurst College is" its ability to maintain a small campus atmosphere even as it has progressed and grown to be renowned in many academic settings. The beautiful setting and familiarity/longevity of the personnel has always made it a welcoming environment for current and past students."