Above: my dad on the beach, looking out at Lake Superior, over Christmas break. Taken by my mom – she got a fancy new camera and was playing with it all that week. I love how obscured he is, and how the landscape overwhelms everything.
My dad turned 55 this week! On Groundhog Day, to be exact. He and my mom are halfway through their first Whole30 - so I imagine it was celebrated very, very creatively.
I love thinking about how I'm like my parents: what physical and mental attributes I got from both, and in turn - what attributes I'll pass along to my own children one day, and how that familial soup keeps getting more interesting and nuanced as time goes on. I've definitely got my mother's irrepressible artistic flair, and I can see myself in younger photos of her. But I'm definitely also a Fabry. On first look, it's easy to say I don't resemble any of my brothers: they're dark and tall like my dad, and Will and Joe in particular mirror his facial features pretty closely. But smaller, though undeniable connections still exist: our impossibly thick and unruly hair (there's a reason we all usually shave it!), the set of our jaws, and the way we squint a little when we're analyzing the shit out of something, or about to crack some wry comment.
(Plus, if I ever inherit this woodshed, it will remain meticulously, chronologically organized.)
All that to say, I'm thankful for everything I got from both of them. I lucked out. And I've been thinking about them a lot recently, as they finish up their Whole30, and as they embark on the next, super-exciting phase of their lives. They're selling their longtime house in Oklahoma this spring, purposefully downsizing most of their belongings (I must've inherited the Never-Ending Edit gene from them as well), and Dad retires in September. I can't wait to see what they do next, and I can't wait to see how I'll continue to grow into my Mom-ness, and Dad-ness.
Happy birthday, Dad!