"One tough bastard."

My dad passed away yesterday. He was 76.

Growing up, to say my dad and I had our differences would be an understatement. Most people were quite surprised when they met my dad especially if they were close friends of mine. We were very different, but found common ground towards the end. And I'm thankful for that.

The 'nurture vs nature' debate is unlikely to ever be completely resolved. There are traits that we carry with us that we pick up from our parents, for sure, but there are also those that we develop independently. There's a lot of gray area in-between, but there are those who more closely resemble one member of the family than others. A couple of days ago, the hospice nurse who had been with my dad for the past year asked me, in a light-hearted manner, if I was as ornery as my father. I laughed and turned to my mother and said "No, I tend to take more after my mother's side of the family. But my sister is." I may be his namesake, but it is my sister who will carry on his legacy (much to the amusement of my brother-in-law).

I'm grateful that my dad passed peacefully and that he was surrounded by family in the end. I am also grateful that I will be reminded of him and maybe even catch a glimpse of him whenever I want. I need only look to my sister.