I grew up telling myself in my teenage years that I’m going to be so different from my father. Now I’m a father, and in so many ways I’m a spitting image of him. I became what I declared I would never be. I repeat what I think is his mistakes but I also can never reflect on what is so great about my father. I don’t have a fraction of his love, his loyalty to his family, his passion, his unending sacrifice for his children, his tenderness.
I guess we can’t run away from who we are. And in many ways, we are where we came from. Yet no matter how much we bear the image of the ones who raised us – it’s an impossibility to ever carry their positive traits. Each preceding generation endures a difficulty that the following generation cannot fathom. Does that mean we need to concur with everything our parents stand for? Not really. But I do think a little humility will go a long way in recognizing how great our parents’ generation is – in spite of the mistakes they made.
2021