011017

lineage.

are you more like your mother or your father? or are you more like someone else?

I am at once a copy, a replica of my mother’s charm and my father’s pensiveness. I am at once an offshoot, of tangential proportions. Free of choice, I am the sum of specific traits from each parent. Some have been bestowed upon me in full form. Complete, entire. Others in part, perhaps small portions combined with each other to illuminate my interests and abilities.

I do not suppose I am substantially more a reflection of my father than my mother. and I cannot purport the contrary. While my mother’s musicality has certainly made the leap, so too has my father’s steadiness and way with words. My athletic nature is thanks to the pair. Dad shared his sense of adventure and mom her vibrancy and dependability.

In so many ways I am different and solitary. I appreciate a well roasted coffee bean and not a well chilled can of diet coke. My jeans fit smaller and I’ve made peace with my quirks and idiosyncrasies. Yet some of those same mannerisms are complete duplicates of my father’s.

I am at once the same and not.

Even still, there are so many traits my parents possess that I continually strive to emulate. Mom’s heart and compassion. Dad’s unflappability. Mom’s work ethic. Dad’s adaptability. All things of a mind’s hunger.

Keep striving.

Perhaps we’re all human and these two of our kind are equally imperfect as they are brilliant. In fact, that’s a fact you learn as your grow older. Your parents are not invincible. They can not change everything for us. They are not in a position to stop the bad, no matter how hard they try.

I’d say my parents are not supernatural beings. and I’d be disproven over and over again. While they aren’t superhuman or supernatural they are otherworldly. and I love them for that.

When your parents humanity slowly reveals itself, some will see events negatively connoted and tragically flawed. It’s this slow reveal that I will forever couple with unadulterated human spirit. The raw, core importance of a life lived well and full.

It’s why I’m indebted to my folks beyond measure. It’s why I say thank you and know it might be barely enough. But it is.

I am more like my mom. I am more like my dad. I am more like myself. I am certainly nothing like anyone else.

One clap, two clap, three clap, forty?

By clapping more or less, you can signal to us which stories really stand out.