I was recently telling my mother about how much my son looks like himself each day. At first this is strange but hear me out. When my son was born he looked like a baby and he’s been looking like a baby for most of the time I’ve known him. He’s cute like a baby and my wife and I (and our families) attempt to discover features that look like us. He has my wife’s eyes, my hairline, an unconfirmed nose (perhaps a great uncle?) and someone else’s cheekbones. While it is great to see where his genetic inheritance may have come from… it’s also important to note his unique qualities.
Each day I look at my son he looks less like a baby. Looking less like a baby means that he’s looking more like himself. What’s strange (and perhaps wonderful) is that I don’t know what he’s going to look like. I don’t know which features will be prominent and I won’t until they’ve taken shape as he grows.
Twenty years from now we’ll be able to lovingly look at the myriad photographs we’ve taken (even in the short period of six months) and see how the man now resembles the baby boy. The future, though, is somewhat less certain. Each time I see my son I’m looking at someone who is going to change. Each week, each month, each year he will not only gain abilities and talents (such as rolling, walking, speaking, etc.) but will also physically change and actually look different. He is progressing towards looking like himself and that is a wonderful thing.
In the beginning, I saw my son as a direct extension of my wife and I (which he is) but now I have to recognize (physically instead of mentally) that there is a unique individual in the person of my son. The Irish (at least those in America) have a merchandising monopoly with the terms “’tis Himself” and “’tis Herself,” which embody the uniqueness of the individual (despite the commonality of the term). My son is himself. I can’t wait to ask him what he thinks of the world.