I was looking through my older blog posts on MySpace, and ran across this one, posted April 22, 2009. I thought I’d run it again, here.
Every once in a while, something will happen that reminds me that I am my father’s son.
At times, it’s disconcerting as hell, other times it’s a nuisance, and sometimes it’s just amusing. I had an experience this morning that I’m not sure about, since it’s several hours later as I write this blog, and I’m still thinking about it.
The most common experience that makes me think of him is when I cough. I make the exact same sounds as he did, and those are the sometimes disconcerting moments. He was a heavy smoker all his life, and eventually died of throat and lung cancer. I, however, have never smoked, and haven’t been around a smoker since I moved out of his house. Some of the family from his side also have the same cough, and many of them were or are heavy smokers. I’m hoping the common sound is related to the structure of our genetically similar bodies, and not due to some other trait we all share that has contributed the deaths of many of my relatives.
I sometimes do things, that once I recognize them, I find amusing. I’ll notice that I’m walking with a gait that resembles his, and I wonder…. am I unconsciously being a little boy, and copying my Dad? Or does that style of moving have more to do with me having a body that is a very close structural copy of his? I’ll notice I’m sitting in a position that he sometimes sat in, and again I wonder. Is it just the long legs and no padding on the butt that results in this orientation, or something else? I had a bad case of hero worship when I was a child, and desperately wanted his approval. I wonder if sometimes that little boy sneaks out of some deep corner of my memory, and still wants Daddy’s attention?