Families
Just Who is That in the Mirror?
Guys, are you turning into your father?

That is how it works, doesn’t it? We are predestined to become our parents. That combination of nature plus nurture packs a powerful force. It is hard to avoid.
I think we are all naturally resistant to becoming our parents, for a variety of reasons. But, at some point, I think we acknowledge that we have taken on at least a few of the traits of our foremothers and fathers.
Sherry McGuinn has come to that conclusion and wrote about it here:
She asks us whether we are taking on characteristics of our parents, be they physical or behavioral? I think that is a good question, as everyone’s background and experiences are different. For instance, what about those adopted folks? Is nurture enough impetus to take on at least the behavioral traits we saw in our parents?
Psychology Today says that there are several components in play that act in concert to shape our worldview and how we act. Not only do genetics and parental actions shape us, but trauma and siblings (or lack thereof) can color our personage.
In a different article, Psychology Today also suggests that we have three options as adults with regard to our families. We can mirror the behavior we witnessed, do the complete opposite, or adopt new behaviors to better adapt to our environments.

Most of the time we end up with a mix of all three. There are some things we do completely differently because we don’t agree with our parents’ approach. For instance, when I was growing up, my mom treated wait staff horribly whenever we went out. As a result, I lean far the other way and always endeavor to be polite and helpful to restaurant servers and tip generously, even if the service was average or not that great.
Our parents definitely shape our being. By the way, mom is much better about that now. Things change.
But Sherry’s discovery of how much she suddenly resembles her mom prompted me to think about the ways in which I take after my dad.
Unfortunately, my dad passed away in 2014. Even more unfortunate was the fact that I was estranged from my family for about 16 years prior to that. Dad’s passing ended up being the catalyst that allowed me to repair my relationship with my mom and get back in touch with my sister.
I suppose that is one of those silver lining to a really black cloud sort of things. The impact of all that is that my memories of my dad are all from the mid ’90s or earlier. I missed out on getting to know him as an adult and as I grew up and progressed through fatherhood myself.

Nevertheless, I have plenty to draw on. First, genetics have done their thing. I look a lot like my dad, the only difference being hair color (him dark brown, me blond), but my dad always kept his shorn very short, and I tend to do that as well. I have been cutting my own hair for over 10 years now. Pretty easy to do when you shave it down to nothing on the sides and give a quick trim to the strands left fighting for real estate on top.
I can notice a similar grin, and some of our mannerisms and stance in pictures looks remarkably close as well. I don’t think I am quite the dead ringer for my dad as Sherry is with her mom, but the resemblance is very clear.
When it comes to mannerisms and actions, I find myself imitating my dad pretty frequently. My dad was one of the kings of Dad Jokes long before the term Dad Joke was ever coined. Some of my perpetual and ridiculous favorites are, “What are the principle parts of a stove? — Lifter, leg and poker.” And, the moderately less crass, three most important vegetables? — Lettuce, turnip and pea.
And the physical humor my own two boys came to dread: “Did I ever tell you about how the horse bit the pumpkin?” This one is done when the target is sitting and the answer, of course, is to rapidly slap and clasp their quadricep just above the knee. Very surprising to the uninitiated.
Of course, you can only use those a few times, so I was sure to keep my repertoire fresh for the kids, remarking about how popular cemeteries are, noting the least spoken language in the world, and my brief review of the book on antigravity…
(People are dying to get in, sign language, and it is impossible to put down.) You know, the classics.

On a more serious note, I got my dad’s ability to learn new tasks and become proficient. My dad taught himself how to operate a bulldozer (and then went into business doing just that), taught himself to weld so he could put ramps on the back of a truck to haul his bulldozer around, and later learned early computer programming languages such as Basic and C+ which he leveraged into a career after the self-employment years.
With that being my script, I have no fear of disassembling something to fix it, I am way more proficient with technology than my age/peer group in general and I am really good at solving complex problems with simple tools — something that made me number one in my firefighter academy class for manipulative skills (some jerk beat me out of valedictorian by a few points at the last minute), and helped me excel at every level throughout my public service career.
I am very thankful for my dad’s ingenuity and self-motivation that demonstrated how I could be successful at anything I put my mind to. I am proud to mirror those qualities I learned from him.
So yes, Sherry, I am turning into my dad — or perhaps the metamorphosis is already complete.
Sometimes I cringe at the idea, who wants to turn into their parents? But, if I really think about it, perhaps there is more good there than bad. All I can really hope for at this point is that my boys aren’t completely horrified by the notion of becoming like me.
If at some point they can consider that potential future and say, “Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad”, then perhaps I can be satisfied enough to accept my legacy.
I don’t know if P.G. Barnett has chimed in yet, but we certainly should hear from Paul Myers MBA, Kevin Buddaeus, Joe Luca, Rasheed Hooda, Arthur G. Hernandez, Ming Qian, Dr John Rose, Bill Abbate, Charles Roast and Dr Mehmet Yildiz on the guy side of the equation. I know Sherry tagged several female writers for their insight.
So, guys, to take a cue from Sherry McGuinn, are you turning into your father?
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Timothy Key spent over 26 years in the fire service as a firefighter/paramedic and various fire chief management roles. He firmly believes that bad managers destroy more than companies, and good managers create a passion that is contagious. Compassion, grace and gratitude drive the world; or at least they should. Follow me on Instagram, Facebook, and Twitter, and join the mail list.






