Gripping Maternal Observation

This has nothing to do with handwriting. Or calligraphy. Well, maybe only figuratively speaking.

OK, let’s call it, genetic writing.

It’s been interesting to me since I started having kids some 30 years ago. (SO interesting that I made an 11-year span of it, producing 8!) Phil’s grown up looking like his dad. Hope looks like my side of the family. Amelia takes after Ron’s sister. Teresa looks like me, but her nice calves are just like Ron’s mom… In some ways they all look alike, have like interests and like negative traits. They all mumble except Phil. They each dig in their heels when they have to do something new.

My great-grand father.

My great-grand father, Johann Aumuller.

When Michael was really small, probably around 2, he picked up a crumb on the table with his middle finger and thumb. How many people do that? Yet, I’d observed Ron’s dad use that same organization of finger-skill when fiddling with electronics, specifically, his ham radio equipment. Michael had not spent so much time with his Grampa that he decided to copy. No, it was a random genetic quirk. I call it a Renegade Vagus Gene. (Actually I just now gave it that label.)

THESE ARE MY OWN SUBJECTIVE OBSERVATIONS; NOT SCIENTIFIC, PUBLISHED FACTS. (When I click Publish, am I now published? Oooo!) Neither am I attempting to make some point.

It is just my observation over the 198.5 cumulative years I’ve been a mom that children are bits and pieces of their genetic past, yet, astonishingly they are unique and individual and “fearfully and wonderfully made, ” as King David said in one of his psalms.

Here comes the handwriting part…

My Dad. Same pump, 130 years later.

My Dad, Johann’s grandson. Same pump, 130 years later.

I think we learn the fundamentals from a classic foundation. How to print, how to cursive, how to script, or scribble comes from the examples of those around us. How we loop an a, cross a t, or swoop a g, comes from the immeasurable complexity of how we are constructed. A mystery and a marvel to me!

As far as presenting something instructional or practical to this observation – I hope you’re not looking for that – except to  smile or gasp with me at the unfathomable layers of what made up the person sitting next to you.

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