I Am Becoming My Father

I noticed it when I fixed the door.

Not that I fixed it.

The way I fixed it.

Same screwdriver. Same little piece of wood under the hinge.

Same muttering when the screw wouldn't catch.

And then I stopped.

Because I remembered watching him

do exactly the same thing.

And I thought...

Oh no.

I'm becoming my father.

I say things now that I swore I'd never say.

"Turn that light off." "Close the door."

"We're not heating the whole neighborhood."

I complain about the price of everything.

I save screws in a coffee can.

I've got a drawer full of cables that I know I'll need

someday.

I hear a strange noise coming from the car

and somehow I already know what it is.

Even when I don't.

Especially when I don't.

And sometimes I catch myself standing in the garage with my hands

on my hips

staring at something I have no intention of fixing today.

And I realize... I've seen this before.

I spent half my life

trying not to become him.

Now I catch him

in the smallest parts of me.

I AM BECOMING MY FATHER

A LITTLE MORE EVERY DAY

I HEAR HIS VOICE INSIDE MY HEAD IN EVERYTHING I DO AND

SAY

I USED TO THINK I'D LOSE MYSELF

IF I BECAME WHO HE WAS

BUT MAYBE I'M NOT LOSING ME

MAYBE I'M BECOMING US

I understand things now that I never understood back then.

Why he checked the weather

before we left the house.

Why he wanted to leave twenty minutes early.

Why he kept things nobody else thought were worth keeping.

Why he didn't always have the words.

Why sometimes

sitting beside someone in silence was enough.

I thought he was too serious.

Too careful.

Too stubborn. Too much like himself.

And now I hear myself saying,

"Don't worry.

I've got it."

And I know exactly where I learned that.

There are things I wish I'd asked him.

Things I wish I'd understood sooner.

Things I thought would always be there because I thought he always

would be. And now I find myself doing the things he did.

Saying the things he said.

Laughing at the same stupid jokes.

Fixing things that probably didn't need fixing.

Looking at my own children and worrying about things they don't even

know they should worry about yet.

And suddenly...

I understand.

He wasn't trying to be perfect.

He was just trying to teach me how to stand on my

own.

And maybe this is what he left me.

Not answers. Not instructions.

Just enough of him to keep going.

I AM BECOMING MY FATHER

A LITTLE MORE EVERY DAY I HEAR HIS VOICE INSIDE MY HEAD

IN EVERYTHING I DO AND SAY I USED TO THINK I'D LOSE

MYSELF IF I BECAME WHO HE WAS

BUT NOW I THINK I FINALLY KNOW WHY HE WAS PROUD OF

US I AM BECOMING MY FATHER

AND I DON'T MIND ANYMORE BECAUSE EVERYTHING HE GAVE TO ME IS

SOMETHING I CAN GIVE ON I USED TO THINK I'D LOSE MYSELF

IF I BECAME WHO HE WAS BUT MAYBE I'M NOT BECOMING HIM

MAYBE...

HE'S BECOMING US.