big shoes

In the past year, I have:

  • Yelled at passing cars to “SLOW DOWN!”
  • Thrown a bag of dog poop at a someone who regularly speeds down the street
  • Told a college kid to pick up the trash he threw on the ground in front of my building
  • Told another college kid to clean up his cigarette butts from the front of my building
  • Complained about noisy neighbors
  • Taken to dominating the HOA to get things my way
  • Consumed more beer than ever before

It’s official. I’ve become my father.

I’ve never really thought of myself as being very much like my dad. We’ve always just seemed so different. He is a surfer. I never really got into the sport. He spent his career as a lineman. I sit at a desk and use a computer (or two, or three). He builds things in  a workshop. I mostly hire people for projects around my house.

Over the last several years I’ve noticed myself doing things and realizing it’s just how my dad would do it. Even my handwriting has started looking suspiciously like my dad’s. Col will often chuckle after I do something particularly Larry-like and say, “Well, it’s clear whose son you are.”

In junior high and high school I was always so afraid to have friends over because it was a safe bet my dad would wander out in his tighty whities to say hello. I remember being mortified when he would run out front in his underwear to yell at a car speeding down the street. I rolled my eyes because he would have some methodic process for what should be simple tasks just because it was more efficient. And, let’s not get started on the “leaving lights on when you’re not in a room” lecture.

But now here I am, ranting about cars needlessly speeding down the street. Lecturing Col on the correct way to load and unload the dishwasher (seriously, it DOES make a difference how you do it!). And generally calling people out on their stupid shit.

I know a lot of people who shudder at the thought of “becoming” their parents. But, I look at my dad and his role in my life and I can only hope to achieve such an accomplishment. My dad has always been there for me and done everything he can to help me achieve my goals. He’s served as an example of what it means to be faithful and committed. He taught me the importance and value of being productive and self sufficient while also helping me recognize that it’s OK to need help from time to time.

So, no, I don’t shudder at the thought of becoming my father. We may still be worlds apart in a lot of ways, but every day I’m more and more thankful of being who I am…my father’s son.

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3 responses to “big shoes

  1. Hey! You kids! GET OFF MY LAWN!

    Heh, in a lot of ways I’ve become my mom. It’s scary, yet…she was my best friend and someone I admire immensely. To this day I cannot explain how that woman got so much stuff done. Granted, it’s not the same sort of stuff I try to get done, but the fact that she could balance and finish so much amazes and inspires me. It was 20 years ago Friday that she died, and I’m hard pressed to think of many living people who were as energetic and productive as she was. All in all, I do think I know how you feel, and I’m lucky to be my mother’s daughter, too. 🙂

    Thanks for posting this, BTW. I’ve been struggling all weekend with the the fact that two decades have passed since my mom’s death, and your words helped me see her life in a different light and focus on how she lived instead of the fact that she died. I know this wasn’t your intent, but I appreciate it nonetheless.

  2. This post is precious. Your dad is awesome – spent Father’s Day with him yesterday. 🙂 The world is a better place because of people like you and Larry keeping the bad guys in check.

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