Definitely not the Postman’s Son

This weekend, my sister and I went to see my father. We had longstanding plans to go through some family memorabilia: documents, newspaper clippings, family trees, and pictures. The idea was to document and classify the contents of the various boxes: adding order to chaos, really. By the end of our marathon, we had only made a dent.

While flipping through the photos, my sister kept gasping, laughing and squealing: “Oh. My. God.” She was the first to look through a box of snapshots of my father when he was in his late-twenties/early-thirties. She saw a resemblance. Both my father and I were a bit surprised when we began examining the photos of him and comparing them to me. So, I thought that it would be interesting to put some photos side-by-side to see for myself.

In this set, my father is 27 and I am 26:


In this set, my father is 32 and I am 30:


When I brought some of pictures home, Mr. T. was a bit freaked out, noting, “If you cover your dad’s nose in the picture, it looks just like you.” I guess I got my mother’s nose…