First Day of Parenthood

(No, I'm not pregnant. Thank you for asking.)

The line goes like this:
"'You won't have to get to know me,' he said, 'because one day you're going to grow up and then you're going to be me.'"

I just finished off Ethan Canin's "The Year of Getting to Know Us," about a man who is watching his father die. The line about is from one of the man's memories, near the end of the tale, where the father tells his son that they don't actually need to spend time with each other because, eventually, they will be the same person. It's an obvious cop-out on the father's part; he feels awkward around his son, and his parenting skills are suspect in the entire story. But, in a way, he's right. The man becomes, as he ages, just as emotionally closed off as his father was up until the day he died. And it begs the question:

Does it happen to all of us?

To what degree will we all become our parents? I have to say, I'm a little afraid of the answer. That's not to say that my parents are awful; they weren't, by any definition or anagram of the word 'awful '(I feel safe saying that, because 'awful' doesn't anagram well). But the thing is, the story shows the man picking up the worst traits that his father had to offer. Will that happen to everyone? If I become the worst of my parents, I don't even know that I'll be able to function.

And, in a way, that's not even the point. The point is, are we inevitably going to become something we cannot control? Or do we have some sort of say in the matter?

A friend of mine was recently complaining about her future (yes, you know who you are). Apparently, on the surface, she is her mother. She is probably going to attend the same college that her mother attended long, long ago. They will have the same major and focus. Her path through life seems to be laying itself over her mother's. She's even been complaining about having some of the same qualities, according to her, as they both contain a nearly unrivaled competitive spirit. My friend is horrified. She and her mother don't have the most cooperative relationship.

But, and here's the kicker, my friend's actions are not changing. She is still going down her path, despite her distaste for where it might lead her. Does this mean she will forever be forced to walk in her mother's shoes? Not so much.

If we become our parents, it must be because we choose to become our parents. I, myself, choose a different route (IwillnotbeadoctorIwillnotbeadoctorIwillnotbeadoctorIwillnotbeadoctor...). But I have taken some things from my father, even if we don't always get along: I am calm, resigned, and a moderately good public speaker. I like all of those things about myself.

I think this kind of thing happens because we are around them, not because "the-road-already-traveled" is an inevitable one. Whether in the 18 years we've spent with them we pick up their traits or not, we are going to pick what we do for ourselves. They may influence us, prod us, maybe even shove us down their optimal choice for our future, but in the end, the child is the one that gets to decide to be a poor writer living in a box in an alleyway instead of a successful, rich pediatrician. My friend may seem like she is moving down the same path as her mother, but they can't live the exact same life; there has to be a break somewhere, whether it is now or farther down the line.

The story has a key point that separates the father and the son; the son acknowledges the flaws in his marriage, and he knows they are not happy. His parents, however, stayed blissfully ignorant until the day the father ran away.

Every person's story has a breaking point, and I don't think we need to search for it. There's just a moment, and it'll happen to each child, where he or she can say: I'm going to wear my own damn shoes.