the slow transformation to dad, continued
The older I get, the more I look like my Dad as I remember him in my childhood. The hints of grey. The wrinkles around the eyes. The bags under his eyes.
Everyday I turn around in the mirror and see echoes of him in my face.
This took an eerie turn last week. Lately I've been taking a notebook with me in order to help me remember what I need to do. Last Tuesday I was in a meeting and I looked down at my scribbled notes and saw my father's handwriting scrawled on the page. It took me several seconds to realize that it was my writing and even then, I didn't really believe that it was mine until it started to unfurl from the pen.
Everyday I turn around in the mirror and see echoes of him in my face.
This took an eerie turn last week. Lately I've been taking a notebook with me in order to help me remember what I need to do. Last Tuesday I was in a meeting and I looked down at my scribbled notes and saw my father's handwriting scrawled on the page. It took me several seconds to realize that it was my writing and even then, I didn't really believe that it was mine until it started to unfurl from the pen.