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like father, like daughter
March 2010
I adore my dad.
And, according to Steve, I'm becoming more and more like him as I get older. Every now and then I'll say something and Steve will respond with, "Okay, Chuck."
At first I denied the similarities, but now I'm kinda loving what we share in common.
Here are my top ten "just like dad" moments:
1. Sheeeee-it! Normally followed by a smart-ass remark. For example, "Sheeee-it. It's hot enough to bake a turkey in here. You forget to pay your electric bill?"
2. Trash talk while I'm playing cards (and the skills to back it up, baby).
3. Metaphor-aholic.
4. Serious disdain for people who drive too slow in the passing lane.
5. He calls me Sis and I call Ellen Sis. We sound just alike, especially when I say something like, "Let's go, Sis! Don't forget your cleats."
6. When losing a political debate, we just talk louder.
7. Storyteller. Often true. Always amusing.
8. Hate stopping on "the other side of the road" during car trips. Buc-ee's is the only exception. It used to be Stuckey's.
9. Like to leave public events early to beat the crowds (even if it means missing the finale). He used to line us up before church and say, "Here's the drill - get the communion wafer then make a beeline for the parking lot. Don't forget your purses. These folks will be tangled up for hours."
10. HATE movies with senseless violence and no redemption. Love The Sound of Music.
Now, if any of these three things happen, someone needs to plan an intervention:
1. If I ever drive a Suburban with coffee cups, mint wrappers, and maps all over the dashboard.
2. If I ever risk life and limb to catch a fish and/or come home with a good fishing/hunting story.
3. If I ever go to law school and use my skills to depose my kids regarding their whereabouts.
The similarities that I love the most:
1. Unapologetically hopeful.
2. Our belief that people are inherently good.
3. We can hold our own in a street fight. It sounds bad, but it comes in handy.
One of the best pieces of advice that my dad has given me is this: “You can’t parent perfectly; your only measure of success is your children’s ability to parent even better than you and your willingness to support them in that process.”
I hope I'm that brave when Ellen and Charlie (named after my dad) are on their own parenting journeys.
Love you dad!
Do you ever see your dad in yourself? If so, how? I'd love to know!
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Reader Comments (47)
best of luck!
I think of moving closer to my parent but, realize ti would scare the holy c*** out of them so I stay at a safe distance. Sad :(
I am so happy for you!
The phrase that always seems most appropriate when describing me and my dad is that "we were cut from the same cloth." I was his shadow as I grew up on our small farm in western NY, and he taught me *so* much about Nature, the value of the natural rhythms of the world, and appreciation for the interconnectedness of all things. He provided my entrepreneurial bent and my leadership leanings. At the same time, though, I think he's in my cells so deeply that I'm not always aware of him on the surface.
One time, eight or nine years ago now, when I was teaching a writing class at a local university, I taped myself for a class I was taking. When I watched the tape back, I was stunned! Normally when I look in the mirror, I mostly see a physical resemblance to my mom. But when I saw myself on that tape, in action, glancing to the side, thinking, moving around the room, I saw my dad. It was so heartwarming! He passed away in 1999 after a very difficult journey with both Parkinson's & Alzheimers. It makes me joyful to know that I'm like him both in ways I know but also in more ways that I'll ever be aware.
Cheryl
I'm just getting to know my dad - he adopted me when I was 5 or 6 and it was pretty rocky after that. We reconciled when I was 23, and I'm interviewing him for Storycorps (http://www.storycorps.org) this Friday. I'm nervous, but I can't wait to get to know him more!
Your dad is a most wise man! I shared his quote about parenting with my daughter, who gave birth to her daughter a month ago. Throughout the pregnancy, I supported her every decision, even when others didn't. She will most certainly understand that quote.
I see my dad in me in many ways. And I miss him terribly. My serenity comes from knowing the last words I ever spoke to him were, "I love you, Dad." I know you'll cherish your time with him. You can see it in your faces. Thanks for sharing this with us!
I will "lift" up my glasses by curling my upper lip under and scrunching my whole face upwards.
Now you know what I get from my Dad!
Steve calling you Chuck especially made me giggle because my husband says, "Right, Keith" when I'm lecturing him about some new wacky idea or bit of science I read about.
Actually, I was just doing some writing about my dad yesterday for the coming anniversary of his death. So he's really been on my mind.
Things I got from dad: Independent thought. A weird combination of both the bohemian free spirit and strong old-fashioned values. Seriously oddball eccentricity. Loner tendencies. Curiosity. Generosity. Idealism. Clumsiness. The inability to walk and talk at the same time if I'm on a roll! ;^)
Sadly, I didn't get dad's genius. But then, I'm not an alcoholic either. So I guess it's even.
I know I admire him immensely. If I am similar to him I'd be honoured to admit it. Now just need to think about whether I am...
It comforts me to know that I physically resemble his mother quite a bit. Somehow in that way I still have a dad and a family.
- “Life’s not fair.”
- We both like exploring and wandering and “playing it by ear.” Why plan too far ahead when you don’t know what’s at the next intersection? (With kids now, I am less spontaneous, but non-planning is still my nature at heart.) At the same time, we’re both freaks for routine: getting up at the same time each morning, doing the same basic tasks in the same sequence each day, following certain (family) traditions.
- We have certain ways of interpreting rules for certain games (back in the day it was Pictionary). Just tonight I expanded the playing field to include dessert (which MUST be homemade), saying “It’s a family sin to serve this [from scratch angel food cake] with Cool Whip.”
- Money is necessary to live, but you don’t need a lot. Experiences are priceless. Family vacations are practically sacred.
- It’s no surprise that Dad has always loved the song, “I Can’t Drive 55.” (Truly, I can drive the speed limit when I try really hard.)
- Chocolate. Dark chocolate.
- We claim to live healthfully and to have healthy habits (but please ignore our affinity for certain sweets at Christmastime, our enjoyment of a good drink and, of course, our daily dependence on good chocolate).
- We’re both quite opinionated (though Dad is far more outspoken than I am).
- We both love to learn and have enjoyed many a PBS documentary together. We think of ourselves as intellectuals.
- Neither of us like to cook, but we both appreciate eating great food.
- Perfectionists. Realists. Environmentalists (when it’s convenient for us, I’ll admit, and when the action fits our own way of thinking).
- Rock-n-Roll. Movies that make you think. Stories about living life to its fullest.
____
My dad and I have had a close relationship. He has always been open with me in conversation, and I feel like I could turn to him with [almost] any problem or challenge in my life. Knowing how much our open relationship has meant to me throughout my life, I try to foster a similar relationship with my two young daughters. I hope someday that they’ll say, “I can talk to my mom about anything.” I honor the love and trust and respect my dad has given me by trying to reflect the same to my girls.
Thanks for this post about your dad & you. It has been fun to reflect on my similarities to my dad. I'm sure there are more that I'll think of later!
Peace & love,
Heather
Because of Dad . . .
I'm a DIE-HARD CHICAGO CUBS FAN (always was, always will be!)
LOVE Coffee (with cream, no sugar)
Whistle while I do housework
Smile when I hear Bon Jovi (yes, my DAD actually liked Bon Jovi!)
and do so many other things . . .
I wrote about my dad in my blog here http://fromchaoscomeshappiness.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-dad.html
Thanks for allowing me to talk about him in a space other than my own blog. And cherish each and every moment with your dad. (I really loved your post today!!!)
I love my daddy too. :)
I'm always scrutinizing how I'm like my mother, agonizing over whether I've fulfilled my childhood fear of becoming her. I always say I'm just like my dad, but I guess that was more of a spoken wish than anything I truly believed.
Ways I'm like my dad:
Love to laugh. Love making others laugh even more. (though he's much better at it)
Numbers are vague and easily interchangable in any story we tell. We aren't exaggerating, it's just that they aren't real to us.
Crazy steel-trap memory for quotes, random facts (but not numbers).
Extreme loyalty.
Live more in our heads and can be messy because we aren't aware of our surroundings.
Thrive in water:)
Thanks, Brene. Liked this one.
Sadly my father passed away some 13 years ago when I was in my 20's. Up until the time when he got sick, he use to really really bug me...alcoholics can do that to you :) But through his illness we got to talk a lot and I really got to see how special he was, and remember the great times we had together (when he was sober)
I now credit a lot of my 'fun and quirky' side to him and that Irish gene.
I am still a pun-aholic, thanks to Dad.
I love that description, and it fits me and my dad as well. My tendency toward exaggerating just a wee bit drives my husband nuts. But my stories are always so funny!
Great post and inspiration to share what I have been thinking about similarities between my dad and me.
1. Storyteller, often digressing, usually funny
2. Humor, masking deep sensitivity
3. Loves to stop at historical markers and read them
4. Uncanny ability to find great greasy spoon, whenever traveling
5. Smart ass sarcasm, delivered in deadpan tone
6. tall
7. writer, unpublished
8. frustrated entrepreneur
9. dreamer
10. longing for a simpler life
11. old movie fan
12. purveyor of useless trivia (esp. of old movies)
13. affectionate
14. nostalgic
15. impatient
My dad died suddenly, 25 years ago. He cheated death at least twice before, but other than that, never seemed to catch a break. When I was in junior high, I skipped school repeatedly, to hang out with him at transmission shops, coffee houses, wherever he was - and my mother was not. Unlike him, I do not smoke, do drink, do not have a mini landfill on my dashboard, do not hit, I curse and graduated from college....It's silly, but I hate that I had an awful perm the last time I saw him, looking a lot like Sir Walter Raleigh. Most days, I can hear him whispering to me, "Angel, Angel, Angel.....pretty girls don't need much makeup." And my reply, " I know, Daddy, that's why I wear it." And on some days, I get into the car, or walk thru a room and am sure I can smell his cigarette smoke.
I enjoyed reading about you and your Dad. Thanks for sharing that. It made me smile.
I'm blessed with two extraordinary, ordinary folks as my parents and I adore them both, adore them and am eternally grateful that I got to have them as my parents.
I'm much more like my mother than my father. But from my Dad I inherited:
- The willingness to stop and listen to what you have to say even if I think I might totally disagree with you.
- The ability to strike up a conversation with anyone, anywhere
- The first two are both true because I inherited Dad's boundless curiosity about people
- A passion for the rights of prisoners, and their families
- An inability to resist the offer of a glass of wine, a piece of chocolate or a platter of cheese.
Luckily for my cholesterol levels, I also inherited my mother's ability to be satisfied with "just a wee taste" and the combined power of both my parents' Scottish Protestant work ethic, which keeps me off the couch and on the move about 20 hours a day. ;-)
Mom said they were rushing, heading to a class reunion an hour out of town. Mom and Dad are always late, and I'm sure they were already an hour behind schedule. Mom said she dropped Dad off at Home Depot to "run in," explaining/urging the time contraint, while she darted across the street to Kohls to purchase a few items. Quickly checking out and buzzing back to Home Depot Mom pulled up and saw Dad, standing outside with his "few items." She stayed back a few feet, to not appear obnoxious, however wanting to drive up on the curb and sound the horn!!! Minutes passed, and passed. Mom started to wonder who was that, and what is wrong? Who died? Who has cancer? She analyzed the body language and facial expressions, trying to pin point who he was chatting with. Fourty Five minutes later (God Bless moms heart) after the intense converstation she watched Dad have with the other man, he finally returned. Mom said, "Who was that?" Dad replied innocently, but firm, "I don't know."
Mom is a patient women.
At the ripe age of 26, I am seeing "dads flavor," shining through, our pure ability to talk with complete strangers about everything and nothing at all.....Like Father Like Daughter
KUHF-Houston Public Radio's "This I Believe" with Sylvia Villarreal
Sylvia says her essay was borne from the values she and her eight siblings learned as children. She says her father was the great example of her life and she pays tribute to him in her essay for KUHF's This I Believe.
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"I believe that unstinting kindness is one of the hallmarks of the highly evolved among us. If that statement provokes mental images of exquisite manners or those bankrolling humanitarian causes, let me try and be very clear about the quality I am naming.
Luckily most of us know kindness. Whether it's a friend sharing a burden or the neighbor retrieving our trash can from the street, our lives are enhanced by everyday niceties. They grease the wheels of society and offer hope in a world that can seem hostile.
And the majority of us regularly engage in kindness; we smile encouragingly at the mother of that wailing toddler, or we purchase that extra sack of groceries for those in dire need.
All these acts ennoble giver and receiver, and the world is better for them. But "unstinting kindness" takes it to a higher level. Unstinting means "holding nothing back" and demands a far braver and unselfish constitution. Unstinting kindness implies a tenacity of spirit, a willingness to engage, and an ability to empathize that supersedes the norm. My model of this quality on the world stage is Bishop Desmond Tutu of South Africa, whose elf-like face is etched with humanity so profound, that it touches all who see him. Watching him during televised national hearings, he would occasionally lay his head on the table and weep at the atrocities that people recounted. But when he raised his eyes, they were not glazed with hate or burning with revenge. Rather they shone with hope, despite the pain and sorrow, that his people could move past this horror, that forgiveness was possible, and that ultimately, healing would come.
In my own life, I've had close-up models of unstinting kindness. My father was an old-fashioned lawyer who never made much money, but was incredibly rich in the regard of his clients. I remember people coming to our home, talking in low halting voices about the child in trouble, the abusive husband, or the mounting financial problems causing stress and shame. And my Dad always listened calmly and compassionately, offering solace and dignity. Not surprisingly toward the end of his life, he took up prison reform as a cause, working hard to make conditions more humane for those held in contempt by so many. I married a man much like my Dad, and comments about his uncommon kindness make me glad for my choice.
Unstinting kindness has transformative power, and those who practice it can change the world. This, I believe."
My father was raised in the depression, the baby of the family, born to a father who was a traveling Electrolux salesman while his mother held down the home and farm. The boys all worked the farm, all four of them with my father being the youngest and one sister. I'm often called "Loretta" by my mother as I act so much like that side of the family. Honestly I don't see it as a bad thing at all. They were all very honest, hard working, somewhat opinionated, stand up people.
I am thrifty like my father, some might call it "cheap". He raised me to take care of things that you don't get them replaced if you're foolish in not caring for them in the first place, the same way we raised our daughter.
My father was a story teller. He would tell me all the time the story of when he was a little boy and Helen Keller visited his farm in upstate New York. I think it was his most cherished memory of his childhood.
I started doing that with my brother-in-law one day and it stopped me dead, I was like oh, my god I am just like my dad right now!!
i am so glad i found this post - i was starting to get annoyed 4 being so much like him, even feel like i'm turning into him sometimes, when i am a girl.
but i now realise there is nothing wrong with this.
you are who you are, and i am my dad :)
<3
Thank you for having the courage to be you, Brene!