Last week, I traveled up to Massachusetts to attend the memorial service for my uncle, John Juergen Bubbers, who died in May after a long illness. I was reunited with my cousins most of whom I’ve not seen in many years. Sadly, it has been funerals, first of our grandparents and now parents that have given us the occasion to gather together again. It’s probably typical that at these events that bring together extended families, we all observe our cousins and the grandchildren and look for our genetic connections. This person looks like Oma, that person has Opa’s mouth, and so on. In fairness, we also acknowledge who resembles a spouse who married into our family.
I took particular notice of one of my cousins. When we were younger we were very similar looking, both of us blond haired and blue eyed and bearing some resemblance to our grandfather. Now, not so much. He was always taller and skinnier than me, and now it seems even more so, especially on the skinnier part. That’s right, Fred. He got skinnier. What struck me was how much he reminded me of his father. In his physical manner, speech patterns, even the way he carried himself was eerily evocative of my Uncle John. It’s been decades since he lived in his father’s household, so how strong could his father’s influence be by this time? When I remarked on this to my sister, she said, “Well, Freddie, I hate to break this to you, but everybody’s been telling me how much you remind them of Daddy.”
“I try not to,” I said.
“There, the way you said ‘I try not to.’ You sound just like him.”
There’s no escape from Gregor Mendel and his wretched wrinkled peas.
© 2010 – 2011, Fred Bubbers. All rights reserved.
Sometimes we went into Manhattan in the early evening and just walk around 
