JUST LIKE DAD

Last Sunday my eight-year-old daughter said something really smart. It was bright, funny, even a little political and competitive. My sister, surprised, told her, “You sound just like your Daddy.” We all laughed. It was something my husband would say, we could almost hear him saying it. My daughter answered, “Yeah, my Dad’s a good role model.”

I chimed in on this post-Italian Ice conversation. Our whole family was taking a stroll after dinner and I was a few steps behind them walking with my Dad, her Pop-Pop. “You know, my Dad was a pretty good role model, too.” I explained, as much to her as to myself. I thought how my entire life I have emulated my father. Quiet like him, humble, steady under pressure, a good student, faithful, kind, goofy sense of humor. Even professionally, I became a surgeon, just like him. “Yes,” my daughter answered. “I guess all fathers are good role models.”

I gave her my sad face, like I felt left out from her list of heroes. “No, Mommy, you’re my role model, too,” she explained. “You see, I want to be a doctor, just like you, but I want to talk just like Dad!”