Mr. Rogers again

Back to Won't You Be My Neighbor..  there was another part that stayed with me, regarding his interaction with François Clemmons, the actor who played Officer Clemmons, a character I did not remember at all.

One of the key episodes featuring Officer Clemmons was from 1969, before I was born. The two men share a pool and a towel, just for cooling their feet, but sending a timely message about resistance to integrating pools. The scene was revisited in 1993, well after I had stopped watching.

https://www.biography.com/news/mister-rogers-officer-clemmons-pool

Won't You Be My Neighbor discusses that, and also François needing to stay closeted to keep his place on the show. I don't know if that led to the other story that made such an impression on me.

Mr. Rogers said to Officer Clemmons once, as part of a scene, “I love you just the way you are.” After, François asked, “Fred, were you talking to me?” “Yes, I've been telling you for two years, and you finally heard me."

They had known each other much longer than two years, so I don't know why there had been that length of time to receive the message. This is the man who sang the song "Many Ways to Say I Love You", so there could have been a wide range of efforts.

François said that he had never had a man say that to him before, including his father and stepfather. In that moment Mr. Rogers became a surrogate father to him.

Maybe two years before was when Fred realized that's what François needed.

I don't know that it's exactly a second chance, but there can be other love, at other times and in others ways, sometimes maybe similar ones.

My grandparents had all died before I was born, but there was a couple we knew from church that I really loved. I remember asking if I could call them Grandma and Grandpa. They said yes, but more than that they took it seriously. They never forgot a birthday after that, for any of us, and they were there for important events. They had five children of their own, and I am not sure how many grandchildren, but they accepted the extra five.

My mother left Italy as a young bride just before she turned 18. One aunt made it to visit us three times, but most of her family, even though we would hear things about them, was really unknown.

Finally, at the age of 34, I made it to Italy for the first time. All of them became vivid and real and beloved, but there was something else.

One of my uncles came to pick us up at the airport, along with the aunt I knew. Though this was his first time ever seeing me, I was instantly loved. He greeted me, "Gina! With a smile like the sun."

Later, we were talking about how things were with our father, with this actually being not long after the last disowning. I tried explaining it as best as I could, knowing it sounds wrong. He just said, "Ah Gina," but with such sympathy in his voice. His care was tangible.

With my father's family, it's not like I thought that anyone wished me harm, but love would seem like a pretty strong term. Here there was love and warmth and it was amazing.

Some people will be kind of glib about "found" family. Yes, it is a wonderful thing to happen, but there are no guarantees. When it happens, it is something to cherish.

I may not have had that consistent, reliable support that they'd asked about, but it wasn't all desolation either. I believe there can be more of that.