It’s all in the family Columns

We recently talked about heredity, and I came to the conclusion that passing on characters from generation to generation is a kind of oddity.

My mom and I laugh together and the chin (the chin can be found in most of my aunts and cousins), but my hair color, blue eyes and height (or lack thereof) belong to my father’s mother. If I want to see how I look into my golden years, I just need to dig up family photos.

Speaking of photos, I found one of my husband’s grandfather’s past years standing in the garden in coveralls. It was like a black and white photo of my husband with a mustache on the steering wheel. Talk about weird!

My own kids are so different from each other that it’s hard to see similarities, but look a little closer. The shape of the eyes and nose is a dead end. Three of my four children have freckles of my dad (and mine). The second older one is built just like my father-in-law, and the younger son is too similar to my own dad to be adopted. And my daughter? She’s a mini-self (but will get taller soon).

Some of the things we have passed on can be considered a blessing. All my children share their parents ’love of reading. But other things like allergies and the fact that five of the six of us need corrective lenses are more like a curse.

Even facial features have been traced through the generations. The husband shares his father’s casual outlook on life. I share my mom’s gift. The youngest son, who is vague and stoic in public, possesses the talent of his father and grandfather for practical jokes and ruthless stupidity. The second senior is very quiet, like his Pop-Pop, but neither one nor the other misses much. My daughter runs like me, but we both have three brothers, so that’s a given.

But even with all the similarities in appearance and character in our house, no two people are the same. If my kids were the same, parenting would be a lot easier! But God apparently did not want parents to be sad (as it happens), so He made our descendants very different, special and bizarre. Also, He probably likes to look down and see some variety instead of carbon copies.

I once read that our “identifier” is that we are different from each other so that we don’t get lost in the shuffle. Can you imagine a world where everyone was a newspaper reviewer? There would be no editors! After all, editors have the important task of separating wheat from chaff and making sure the chaff is printed!

Holly Fletcher writes for the Gettysburg Times and is a home mom who hopes her editor will see humor in the aforementioned statement.

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