Channeling Dad

Most women, when they hit their forties, fear turning into their mothers. Not me. I’m becoming my dad.

It shouldn’t surprise me, really. All my life people have commented on how much I look like him. I’ve got his fair hair and skin; I’ve got his chin and his nose. Last week I had my first dermatological procedure to remove potentially cancerous lesions for biopsy, and when I was all done fretting over how ugly I thought I looked, I remembered my dad always looked kind of cute coming home from the doctor with skin cancer Band-Aids patching up his face.

There’s other ways he’s showing up in me. Like me, he was a teacher, and every day he arrived home from school at pretty much the same time to embark upon what was really more of a ritual than a routine:

1. First, a beeline for the kitchen, where he snacked on chips right out of the bag, eating with a sense of urgency and gusto that suggested he hadn’t had time for lunch.

2. Next stop, the bedroom, where he changed into his workout clothes.

3. In his gym clothes he’d move to the living room, where he sat in his recliner and watched television. Is it just my imagination, or did he watch Phil Donohue? Maybe not. Maybe it was game shows. Whatever it was, it put him right to sleep.

4. After about a 20-minute power nap, he’d pop out of his chair and head to the garage, where his makeshift gym was set up. He’d jump rope and lift weights for about an hour. Sometimes he’d jog or take the dog for a walk.

I remember these details because the other day, an exhausting Monday of teaching children who were wound up by the 30-knot wind, I got home, made a beeline for the kitchen and snacked on chips right out of the bag. I changed into my workout clothes then collapsed on the couch, watching (instead of TV, which I don’t own) a video on my computer. I fell asleep for about 20 minutes, then popped up and worked out with my dumbbells and yoga mat right there in my living room. Then I went for a jog.

It was around the time it occurred to me that Mom wasn’t going to breeze in after her exhausting day at work to cook my dinner that I put it all together and saw the resemblance in Technicolor.

I've been channeling my Dad.