Fathers To Sons And Daughters

As I grow older I hear more of my late father’s voice in my words. It’s not anything I can pin down. My dad had a very expressive speaking voice, especially when he was in a light-hearted mood. I remember him that way a lot.

When I speak to the pets or to Brittany, I hear some of that coming out–I don’t know where it comes from.

Other things to pass on were more scarce. Certainly, I have genetic inheritance: musicianship, a certain playfulness with my kid, and some physical characteristics like good teeth and a certain voice.

My father and I shared a taste for good seafood and jazz: two tastes I haven’t influenced my daughter to adopt. He didn’t share my taste in science, rock, ethnic foods, science fiction, or church things.
Not three weeks into summer vacation, and Brittany has turned into a Star Trek fan, asking at every turn to view all my taped Voyager episodes. I noticed she listed it as her favorite tv show on her summer camp application a few days ago. I asked her why she didn’t list this show instead. She just shrugged. She also jumped in ghee–I mean glee at my Father’s Day dining choice this afternoon.

Afterward, we enjoyed more sf fun: she enjoyed the character Polly Perkins. That’s okay. I rather enjoyed the other female lead in the film, but I think I look at female hero figures somwhat differently.

I sit in awe at the influence parents seem to have on children–on the influence I have on one child. I’m used to people going their own way, making their own decisions, and leaving me to my own devices. You’d think that by age eleven they’re leaving family influences farther behind. But I guess not yet. It still feels like a singular responsibility.

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About catholicsensibility

Todd and his family live in Ames, Iowa. He serves a Catholic parish of both Iowa State students and town residents.
This entry was posted in Food, My Family, science fiction. Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to Fathers To Sons And Daughters

  1. Brigid says:

    A lovely post, Todd.

    I feel the same towards my son: I am amazed at the influence I have and yet also am amazed at how much his “own man” he’s becoming, even @ the tender age of eight!

    I am *privileged* to still have my father around to even influence my son. They happily played cards (both are big “gamers”) yesterday while I grilled burgers and my husband spoke on the phone with his own father. A blessed day and yet, I know my days are numbered with my father since he turned *90* this year! May I cherish each day with him. His influence on me is daunting at times and yet, I am my own person. I credit him for the good and the bad influences but, in reality, he did let me find my own way. And while I *still* find myself craving his verbal praise (his greatest weakness, I am sad to say…) I honor him for being a father who was faithful and worked hard! I did get that from him.

    [Thanks for letting me ramble here...]

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