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父亲回忆 Stosh
我经常被问到这样的问题，我的妻子去世以后我是怎么抚养八个孩子的（包括七个男孩儿，一个女孩儿）。在我的小女儿安娜六岁的时候，我的妻子安娜.阿菲雅因为癌症去世了，(我的小女儿的名字是根据他的母亲命名的）。男孩儿们的年龄从22到9岁。我可以告诉大家的一件事情就是培养男孩儿和女孩儿是有很大区别的，我的小女儿安娜，她是我的公主，我的生命之光。但是男孩子们，他们需要严加看管，在需要的时候还要有严厉的惩罚，我确定他们经常接受这些。
我们是一个苏格兰人在美国的家庭，住在宾夕法尼亚州的斯托克顿的郊区，我在那儿的矿场工作，我的大儿子Stosh也在那里工作。我的名字是斯坦劳尼斯.帕维尔.克拉希尼斯基，我和妻子根据我的名字给我大儿子起名字，因此我叫做斯坦劳尼斯，而我的儿子叫做Stosh，它不过是前面的一个缩写罢了。我的其他儿子一次是mike，steve，Greogry，sebastian，tommy，和adam。我们喜欢以圣人的名字，波兰的名字和我们家庭成员的名字来给孩子命名。我的妻子更喜欢一些美国的现代名字，但是我喜欢传统的名字，mike是michael Jacek的简写，tommy是tomasz jozef的缩写。例如，sebastian是一个波兰传统的不错的名字。
当我的父亲来到从波兰到美国的时候，他来到了斯托克顿，当时这里已经有很多波兰人居住了。我的父亲和他的叔父一起迁移过来，是他的叔父抚养他长大。我的父亲和我母亲在他们年轻的时候就结婚了，我是他们第一个孩子，但是我母亲在生我的时候去世了，因此这也是我父亲把一切归咎到我身上的原因。并且他从来没有让我忘记过。在我成长的过程中，那个令人懊恼的磨刀皮带从来没有远离过他，我年轻的时候平均每周就要挨两到三次抽打，但是后来我学会接受它并且是自己变得强壮。
据说，抚养我父亲长大的叔祖父也是一个严厉的惩罚者，我父亲成长的过程中也觉得磨刀皮带是令人讨厌的，所以他认为这个也会给我带来一个好的世界。这是我父亲的老磨刀皮带，我用它来刮脸并且在我的孩子们需要的时候打他们一顿屁股。
我好想有点跑题了，没有妻子是怎么抚养七个男孩儿和一个女孩儿的呢？好吧，我肯定会制定规矩并且写在纸上实施它。我告诉我的孩子们说他们在喜欢或者是需要这个家的时候是可以住在这里的，但是我希望当他们毕业工作的时候能够为按揭或者是其他的支出做出贡献。我也会有一些眼里而且快速的规则，我经常重复那句话，“你们住在我的屋檐下的时候就要遵守我的规矩，谁要是破坏规矩了，我就会决定如何惩罚他。”他们都理解这个规则。
我记得在我大儿子Stosh22岁的那个夏天，但事实上，这就好像昨天发生的一样。星期天的早上我醒来走到厨房，steve和gregogry正在煎蛋准备早餐，adam和anna则在吃他们喜欢的麦片粥。sebastian正在晒他们的准备去教堂的鞋，我拎着垃圾来到车库，然后停下来看着我的汽车，汽车的一侧的后角几乎被完全撞进去了！
“斯坦ISLUS PAVEL KOLASINSKI!!!马上过来！！现在！！！”我喊道。星期六的晚上只有Stosh惫允许使用家庭汽车，他和一个年轻的女士有一个约会，他们要出去。他已经长大而且能开车并能保护我们的家庭汽车，我无法相信我的眼睛。
mike正准备走进厨房，听到我的喊叫之后急忙叫醒Stosh，Stosh因为昨天回来太晚正在熟睡当中。但是孩子们纸都当我喊他们并且使用那三个名字，表示他们有麻烦了。Stosh跑到车库，光着脚，只穿了一件睡裤。
“爸爸，对不起！”他说，“让我解释……”他语无伦次了。
“我不想知道发生了什么或者是还有谁！”我对他喊道。“你知道这里的规矩！”我几近疯狂，我在他面前在走来走去，双后紧紧的握在背后。Stosh站在那里，看上去很害怕。“你打算怎么办呢？”我责问道。
“我会配成这个损失，爸爸，真的，我会的。”他说，听起来十分焦虑。
“噢，你会赔偿，好的，还有什么？”我站在他的面前，盯着他的脸。Stosh已经成为了一个出色的年轻人，强壮，他是高中足球队里的前锋（我的儿子都是如此，出了sebastian和最小的那个），身材不错。他有着和我一样强壮的胸膛，细长的大腿，强壮的手臂。在我们一起工作的矿场里，他已经能挣得和一个强壮的年轻人一样多了，已经是半个劳力了。在这方面我十分骄傲，即使现在我不是那么的骄傲。“我想你会对我禁闭，是吗？”他问，有点胆怯，他毕竟22了，已经好几年没有被禁足了，自从那辞啤酒事件以后，不过那是另外一个故事。
“是的，儿子，你可以考虑下个月禁足一个月”我对他喊道，他把目光盯在地板上，“当 我 你 说 话 的 时 候 看 着 我！！！”我喊道。他的眼睛看着我的眼睛，“不仅仅是禁足，而且你要承担修理费用，今天从教堂回来以后，我会给你的屁股来一顿抽打。”
Stosh的眼睛争得好像盘子一样，“不！爸爸，不要，我已经22岁了！你不能再打我屁股了，不要！”他开始哀求。
“哦，你不认为我会揍你？”我问他，“你知道这里的规矩，我决定怎么惩罚你。你这么粗心的对待汽车是十分幼稚的和不负责任的行为，所以，如果你的行为像一个不负责任的小孩一样，你就会像不负责任的小孩一样被打屁股。你明白了吗？！？”我确定我的脸都喊红了，“你和我每个周日都要进行一场打屁股知道这个车修好为止。明白了吗？”
“是的，爸爸，”Stosh闷闷不乐的回答说。他顺从的接受了我给他的安排。他知道祈求和哀求对原谅来说是没有用的，他知道我会用那把老式的磨刀带揍到他屁股开花，他将根本无法坐下。
我确信其他的七个孩子听到了每一句话，毕竟车库和厨房的通道只隔着一个门而已，而且他们此时都在吃早餐。Stosh回到房间和mike一起收拾准备去教堂的东西，我回到了厨房。我虚弱的一笑，试图让一切看起来都很正常。“好了，孩子们，我们出发！都去穿上自己的衣服，快一点！”他们很快将盘子放在洗涤池里，桌子也擦干净了，牛奶和麦片粥都收拾好了，房间在最短的时间内变得空空荡荡。十分钟以后，孩子们在客厅了站成一排来接受我的检查。
我为我的家庭感到骄傲，在我们一起出去的时候，特别是和波兰的邻居一起出现在教堂的时候，我希望他们看起来十分棒。男孩子们穿上礼服以后看起来如此的绅士，“Sebastian，干的不错。”我对我的五儿子赞扬了一番，“我想下周你也许可以从这个工作中解脱出来，我想Stosh下个月愿意擦你们每个人的鞋子，是吗，Stosh？”
“是的，爸爸。”Stosh十分沮丧的会带，他知道此时自己无力改变这个结果。
我们在去教堂的一个拐角处遇到了我的堂妹ola和他的丈夫joe。anna马上拉着她姑姑的手说,“Stosh在我们回家以后要被打屁股了。”
ola看着我说：“斯坦，不要告诉你还在打男孩子的屁股。”
joe打断她说，“ola，我们没权决定斯坦怎么培养他的孩子，我认为好好的揍他们一顿屁股是不错的事情，特别是对那些男孩子。”我很满意我对Stosh做出了打他屁股的决定。
接下来，我们从教堂回到家，在我让Stosh去房间里等我的时候，孩子们已经换下了去教堂的衣服，穿上了平时的衣服。Stosh知道接下来要发生什么事情，所以他慢吞吞的，十分害怕。在我的卧室里，他还没有完全的换好衣服，穿着礼服的裤子，白体恤和深色袜子。他已经脱下了领带，衬衫和皮鞋。
“坐吧。”我指向床尾说。我的大儿子已经22岁了，长得高大强壮，还是足球运动员，现在和我在一个矿场工作，此时正坐在那儿，害怕的样子像一个小孩子，他知道自己将要被我用磨刀带狠狠的痛打一顿屁股。他腿分开坐着，双手在膝盖钱仅仅的握着，头深深的低着。“我们都知道你在这里的原因，你还有什么为自己说的吗？”
“我想解释一下发生的过程。”他说，我点头示意他继续说，“我和玛丽昨天晚上离开电影院的时候，我在停车场倒车，停车的一边有个水泥板，天太黑了无没有看见，我想可能是撞在那个上面了。”“以每小时四十公里的速度，”我强调说，“倒车的时候那么快是很伤发动机的。”我喊道。
“也许吧，爸爸，对不起，我应该受到惩罚。”Stosh平静的说，但是声音带有一丝恐惧，也许对接下来的事情感到害怕吧。
“惩罚会有的，孩子，记住，接下来的一个月你将被禁足吗，在这段时间里你要做Sebastian所做的事情，这意味着你要擦每个人都皮鞋。这样你也许会谦虚一些。而且，如果下周末你还有没有修好车，我们从教堂回来之后还要再打你一顿屁股，直到汽车修好为止，明白吗？”
“明白，爸爸。”Stosh低声说，“我想我的存款够用来修车。”
“好吧，我希望你说到做到。”我警告他说，“Stosh，接下来你知道要做什么。”
然后Stosh到浴室里取来挂在钩子上的磨刀带，它平时就挂在那儿，他把它交给了我。然后解开自己的皮带，解开裤子拉链，解开扣子，他脱掉长裤，然后把它们放在地板上，他跨过他们，转过身去，平趴在我的床尾，屁股在床垫的边缘翘起。我卷起我的衬衫袖子，拿起磨刀皮带。我向下看了看我的运动员儿子，正在等我给他的屁股一顿痛打。他粗壮的大腿上布满了体毛，就好象他的手臂一样。“他完全可以反抗我，如果他想的话。”我对自己说，“但是在这个房子里，他知道是谁说了算。”紧接着，我放下皮带，伸手抓住他内裤的边，然后把它拉到大腿根处，露出了Stosh浑圆多毛的屁股，“这就是告诉他谁说了算”，我对自己说。当我脱掉他内裤的时候我看到了他的恐惧，我认为22岁的他不希望被打光屁股。
接下来接近十分钟是对我的大儿子的屁股一阵缓慢而又节奏的抽打。并且我丝毫没有犹豫，我也从来没有这样过。我可以开始比平时慢一些，让我的手获得抽打的感觉，但是这是Stosh的惩罚，意味着我要让他觉得疼。但是作为一个高大的成长的年轻人，他忍住不发出声音。过了一会儿，我不得不走到走过去踢踢他的双腿示意分开一些，他知道从他生活中的每次挨打都要求双腿分开。结束的时候，我发誓他的眼里充满了泪水。
Stosh的屁股最后变成了深红色，但是在他屁股的柔软之处已经出现了更多的伤痕，这是皮带的边缘抽打出来的。我打他们的时候从来不会让他们受伤，或者是布满了鞭痕。所以，当我发现伤痕开始增多的时候，我觉得是时候停止惩罚了。
“好了，孩子，我想你已经被打的够多了。你可以起来了。”我对他说。他小心翼翼的站起来然后我给了他一个拥抱。他抓着我然后留下了眼泪，在我的肩上不住的哭泣。
“我真对不起你，爸爸。”他边哭边说。“我再也不会让你失望了。你能原谅我吗？请原谅我！”现在他真的为他所做的感到抱歉。我从来没有如此的爱过我的儿子。
我轻拍他的肩膀然后继续抱着他说，“是的，孩子，我原谅你了。”我温柔的说道，“但是你最好尽快修好汽车，否则下个周末我会再来一次的，明白吗？”
“好的，爸爸，我知道了。我会修好它的”，他认真的说。
但是你知道接下来发生什么了吗？修理店的一个零件要延期交货，所以直到周五汽车都没有修好，所以下个周末…………
A FATHER REMEMBERS – STOSH
I have been asked many times what it was like to raise eight children (including seven boys) after my wife passed away. Cancer took my Anna Maria from me when our youngest, Anna (whom we named for her mother) was only six years old. The boys were then ages nine to twenty-one. One thing I can tell you is that there is a big difference between raising sons and raising daughters. My little Anna Maria is my princess, the light of my life. But boys, they need a firm hand, and strict discipline in order to turn out right. I have always made sure they got it.
We are a Polish-American family, living outside of Scranton, Pennsylvania. I work in the mines there, as does my oldest son, Stosh. My name is Stanislaus Pavel Kolasinski, and my wife and I named our first-born after me. Since I am called Stan, he is called Stosh, which is a common nickname for Stanislaus. My other sons are, in order, Mike, Steve, Gregory, Sebastian, Tommy, and Adam. We liked to use the names of the Saints, famous Poles, and family members in naming our children. My wife wanted more modern American-sounding names, but I insisted on the more traditional names. Mike is actually short for Michael Jacek, and Tommy is really Tomasz Jozef, for example. Sebastians middle name is Janos, another good Polish name.
When my father came to America from Poland, he came to Scranton, where there were already many other Poles living. He came over with his uncle, who looked after him and pretty much raised him. My parents met and were married at a young age. I was their first child, but my mother died giving birth to me, which my father always blamed me for. And he never let me forget it, either. The razor strop was never far from his hand as I was growing up. I got the strap two or three times a week when I was young. But I learned how to take it, and be strong.
From all accounts, my great-uncle Jozef, who raised my father, was a strict disciplinarian, too. Father mentioned several times that he, too, had felt the razor strop when he was growing up, so he knew it would do me a world of good. It is my fathers old razor strop that I use for shaving and when one my boys needs to be spanked.
But I am getting away from the question you asked me. What was it like to raise seven sons and one daughter without a wife? Well, I had to be sure I laid down the law, and followed it to the letter. I always told my boys they could live in the family home as long as they liked to or needed to, but I expected them to contribute to the mortgage and other expenses, once they were out of school and working. I also had a hard and fast rule that I repeated often: "As long as you live under my roof, you live by my rules. Break those rules, and I decide the punishment." They all understood this rule.
I remember one time, the summer after Stosh turned 22. In fact, I remember it like it was yesterday. I woke up on Sunday morning and went to the kitchen. Steve and Gregory were scrambling up some eggs for breakfast. Tommy, Adam and Anna were already eating their favorite cereal. Sebastian was sitting on the floor in the corner, shining his shoes (and his brothers) for church. I went out to the garage with the trash, and stopped dead in my tracks. The passenger side back corner of the car was all smashed in!
"STANISLAUS PAVEL KOLASINSKI!!! Get in here!!! NOW!!!" I yelled. Stosh had asked permission to use the family car on Saturday night; there was a young lady he has been dating, and he wanted to take her out. The boys who are old enough to drive all know how protective I am of our familys only car. I couldnt believe my eyes!
Mike, who had just wandered into the kitchen, heard me yelling and ran to wake Stosh, who apparently was still asleep from being out late. The kids all know that when I yell for them and use all three of their names, they are really in for it. Stosh ran to the garage, barefoot, and wearing only his pajama bottoms.
"Pop, Im sorry!!" he started. "Let me explain…" he fumbled for the words.
"I dont want to know what happened, or who else was involved!" I barked at him. "You know the rules around here!" I was so mad, I pacing back and forth in front of him with my hands clasped behind my back. Stosh stood there, looking like he was terrified of me. "What do you think we should do about this?" I demanded
"Ill pay for the damage, Pop. Honest, I will!" he started, sounding agitated.
"Oh, youll pay, all right! What else?" I was standing right in front of him, staring into his face. Stosh had grown to be a fine young man, physically. He played on the local high school football team (as did all of my other sons, except Sebastian and the young ones) as a lineman, and filled out well. He had a barrel chest, like me, and big, thick thighs. He was very strong in his arms, too. Down at the mine, where we worked together, he had already earned respect as a strong young man and a hard worker. I was very proud of him in that respect. I wasnt feeling too proud of him right now, though.
"I guess youre gonna ground me, right?" he asked, a little sheepishly. He was 22, after all, and hadnt been grounded for several years. Not since that incident with the beer. But thats anothe
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r story.
"Yes, son, you can consider yourself grounded for the next month," I yelled at him. He dropped his gaze to the floor. "YOU LOOK AT ME WHEN I AM TALKING TO YOU!!" I yelled. His eyes rose to meet mine. "Not only are you grounded, you will pay for the repairs. And when we get back from church this morning, you and I will have a session with the strap!"
Stoshs eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. "No! Pop, please! Im 22 years old! You cant spank me! Please!" he was begging now.
"Oh, you dont think I can?" I asked him. "You know the rules around here – I decide the punishment. It was very immature and irresponsible of you to treat the car so casually. So, if you will act like an irresponsible little boy, you will be spanked like an irresponsible little boy! Do you understand me?!?!" I am sure I was red in the face from yelling at him. "And you and I will have a session with the strap every Sunday until the car is fixed. Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir," replied my oldest son, glumly. He was resigned to his fate; he knew there was no use pleading or begging for forgiveness. He knew I was going to blister his rear end with that old razor strop until he couldnt sit down.
I am sure the other seven children had heard every word. After all, the garage is connected to the house by a door that leads into the kitchen, and they were all in there having breakfast. I went back into the kitchen, while Stosh went to the bedroom he shared with Mike to get ready for church. I smiled weakly, trying to pretend like everything was normal. "Okay, kids, lets go! Everyone get dressed for church. Be quick about it!" Dishes were dumped quickly into the sink, the table wiped, milk and cereal put away, and the room emptied in record time. Ten minutes later, they were all lined up in the living room, ready for inspection.
I am proud of my family, and always want them to look nice when we all go out together, especially to the Catholic church we attend with all the other Polish families in the neighborhood. The boys all looked handsome in their suits. "You did a good job polishing the shoes, Sebastian," I complimented son number five. "Maybe you would like a break from that chore for a month? I think Stosh would be happy to polish all your shoes for the next month, wouldnt you, Stosh?"
"Yes, sir," said Stosh dejectedly, knowing there was nothing he could do or say that would change the situation.
As we walked to the church, my cousin Ola (short for Yolanda) and her husband Joe met the nine of us at the corner and we walked together. Anna immediately took her "Aunt" Olas hand and said, "Stosh is gonna get it when we get home."
Ola looked at me and said, "Stan, please dont tell me you still spank these boys!"
Joe interrupted her, "Ola, mind your business. It is not for us to decide how Stan raises his family. Besides, I dont see anything wrong with a good spanking every now and then. Especially for the boys." I felt better about my decision to take the strap to Stoshs rear end.
Later, when we were back from church, the children were all changing out of their Sunday clothes into their play clothes when I called for Stosh to come to my bedroom. He knew what was going to happen next, and had been moving slowly, dreading the moment.
He still was not completely changed form his church clothes, and was wearing his dress slacks, a white t-shirt and dark socks. He had already taken off his tie, dress shirt and good pair of dress shoes.
"Sit down," I ordered, pointing to the foot of my bed. My big, strong, 22 year old son, an ex-football player who now worked by my side in the mine, was sitting there, cowering like a little boy, knowing he was about to get a sound spanking with my razor strop. He sat with his legs spread apart, his hands clasped in front of him and between his knees, with his head bowed down. "We know why youre here," I said. "What have you got to say for yourself?"
"I just want to explain what happened," he said. I nodded for him to go on. "Mary and I were leaving the theater, and I was backing up in the parking lot. There was a short concrete wall along that side of the parking lot, and I didnt see it in the dark. I guess I just backed into it."
"At about 40mph!" I stated. "You must have really revved the engine to do that much damage backing up!" I yelled.
"Maybe I did, Pop. Im sorry. I know I deserve to be punished," Stosh said calmly. I could hear the remorse in his voice. Or was that fear of what was coming next?
"And punished you will be, my son! Remember, you are grounded for the next month. During that month, you are to take over Sebastians chore of shining shoes for church. That means all of your brothers shoes, plus mine. That might teach you a little humility. And, if the car is not fixed by next weekend, youll get another licking right after church next Sunday, and every Sunday after that, until it is fixed! Do you understand me?"
"Yes, sir. I understand," said Stosh meekly. "I think I have enough money saved to have it fixed this week."
"Well, I hope for your sake you do," I warned. "Okay, Stosh, you know what to do."
With that, Stosh went to my bathroom, got the razor strop from the hook where it has always hung, and brought it to me. He then unbuckled his belt, unzipped his fly, unbuttoned his trousers and let them drop to the floor. He stepped out of them, turned, and lay across the foot of my bed, angling his rear end over the edge of the mattress. I rolled up my shirtsleeves and picked up the razor strop. I looked down at my athletic oldest son, waiting for me to give his rear end a sound spanking. His massive legs were covered with dark hair, as were his muscular arms. "He could probably take me in a fight, if he wanted to," I thought to myself. "But in this house, he knows who is the boss." With that, I set the strop down, reached for the waistband of his briefs, and pulled them down to the tops of his thighs, exposing Stoshs hairy, round rump. "Thatll show him whos boss!" I thought to myself. I could see him flinch when I took his shorts down; I dont think that, at age 22, he expected a spanking on the bare butt.
What followed was close to ten minutes of a slow and methodical strapping of my oldest sons rear end. And I didnt hold back – I never do! I may have started out a little slowly, to get the feel of the strap in my hand, but this was Stoshs punishment, and I meant to make it hurt. But, being the big, grown young man that he is, he tried not to make a sound. I could see him grabbing at the bedspread with clenched fists. A few times, I had to step between his legs and kick them apart. He knows from having had the strap all his life that he is supposed to keep his legs spread apart during his spanking. Towards the end, I could swear he had tears in his eyes.
Stoshs rump had finally turned a deep red, but there were welts starting to rise from where the edge of the strop had caught the more tender flesh on the side of his buttocks. I dont bruise my boys when I spank them, or believe in raising welts, so, when I saw welts starting to rise, I felt it was time to stop.
"Okay, son, I think youve had enough. You can get up now," I said to him. Gingerly, he stood and I wrapped my arms around him to give him a hug. He grabbed me and burst into tears, crying and sobbing on my shoulder.
"I am so sorry, Daddy," he said through his sobs. "I will never, ever disappoint you again. Can you forgive me? Please forgive me!" now he truly was sorry for what he had done. And he clung to me like he never wanted to let go, crying on my shoulder. Never before have I ever loved my son more than at that moment.
I patted his shoulder, and continued to hold him. "Yes, son, I forgive you," I said softly. "But you had better get that car fixed as soon as you can, or else you and I will repeat this next Sunday. Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir, I understand. Ill get it fixed," he said earnestly.
But you know what happened? A part the repair shop needed was on backorder. By Friday evening the car still wasnt fixed, so, the next Sunday…
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