Who Do You Look Like

It is a little more than a year since I last saw mom and I make sure to bend my head so that she can wrap her arms around me.

We hug each other hello and I walk into the house thinking about how this is only the second time I have been there since that wasn’t related to Dad being sick or dying.

I am finally beginning to make memories there in which he isn’t involved, though his presence isn’t ever that far away.

These rooms are where we had the last conversations and hold the places where he and I sat alone and he imparted his final wishes and requests to me.

I look at his granddaughter and grandson and see two young adults and smile. They are exceptional and thriving and if anything comes after our time on this plane I am sure he is aware.

And if not, well it is alright because he always had confidence in them and I can’t tell him about it regardless of what is or isn’t.

I am ok with that because I can’t change it, but it is not a lie to say I would have liked to have been able to.

She Is So Big Now

I remember picking my daughter up from summer camp and walking her to the car. She wasn’t quite in kindergarten yet but was anxious to get there because she wanted to do anything her big brother did.

I still have a significant chunk of height on her, but I don’t quite tower over her as dramatically as I once did.

She still has that long naturally curly hair that is similar in color to what little I still have.

People look at a recent picture of us and make comments about who we look like. Some say I look just like her grandmother and I smile because I have heard that my entire life.

Though it doesn’t bother me anymore, but it did when I was younger because when you are 10 you think you ought to look like your father because you are both boys.

Daughter and I laugh a bit about the conversation regarding who we look like and I listen to her comments, that are far more detailed than mine.

I figure that is a gender difference because I never paid as much attention as she and other women do. Probably isn’t consistent across the board, but regardless it seems to me it is probably easier to be a man.

At least when it comes to looks, we are given more grace than women are or so it seems to me.

The young woman who used to be a little girl tells an aunt she can help a younger cousin with chemistry and later talks about some of the other courses she took and will be taking.

Dad was a journalism major who could have minored in political science had he registered and daughter, well she is a neuroscience major with a chemistry minor.

That may last or that may change but regardless it is significantly harder coursework than I took. When we discuss it I tell her I could have gone down that path had I been willing to take on that sort of rigor, but I didn’t want it.

She does and that goes a long way to helping to navigate the seas she sails upon. She is more than capable of handling it all, but the willingness to do so is distinct, significant and important.

That is how you live up to and go beyond your potential.