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Genotype/Phenotype
Aug. 4th, 2013 10:33 amYesterday was my Uncle Roger and Aunt Jill's 50th anniversary. We only have these really big family reunions once a decade or so, and while I found I could easily recognize all my immediate cousins (including one who I hadn't seen in a quarter-century, but who looks like an older version of his adolescent self), the younger generation was trickier to identify -- I'd either never seen them, or had only seen them as infants, and the family resemblance made it tough to guess which had come from which parents.
It's quite weird to be in a crowd of forty or so people who, apart from spouses and adopted children, all look like differently-aged and -gendered variations on the same template.
"There are only two noses to go around," I said at one point. The presence of my aunt's sister really brought this home to me, as she hadn't seen most of these people since the wedding fifty years ago, and I kept having to explain who everyone was:
"Now who's that?"
"That's Holly. She's the younger daughter of Roger's sister Heather."
"She looks just like Mary."
"Yes, I suppose she does. I'd never really noticed." And indeed, I saw at that moment that my cousin really does look just like a younger version of our grandmother. Later my mother's cousin Laurie noticed how much one of the children looked like her brother Doug (not present) at the same age, and I know from a comparison of photos at a reunion ten or so years back that Doug looks likes a younger version of his late father, my great-uncle Dalton.
All of which can be a bit spooky. I take comfort in the knowledge that circumstances do not necessarily repeat, and that even with similar physiques and temperaments that biology is not destiny. This is more a matter of principle -- there was no one there I could look at and think "oh God, I hope I never turn into *that*." If anything I had the uncomfortable feeling that we may be a eugenicist's wet dream. We're all pretty healthy (there is some history of breast cancer, but also a pretty good track record of surviving it). My Great-Aunt Janette is ninety-two and definitely still has all her marbles. None of us are particularly hideous.
It's quite weird to be in a crowd of forty or so people who, apart from spouses and adopted children, all look like differently-aged and -gendered variations on the same template.
"There are only two noses to go around," I said at one point. The presence of my aunt's sister really brought this home to me, as she hadn't seen most of these people since the wedding fifty years ago, and I kept having to explain who everyone was:
"Now who's that?"
"That's Holly. She's the younger daughter of Roger's sister Heather."
"She looks just like Mary."
"Yes, I suppose she does. I'd never really noticed." And indeed, I saw at that moment that my cousin really does look just like a younger version of our grandmother. Later my mother's cousin Laurie noticed how much one of the children looked like her brother Doug (not present) at the same age, and I know from a comparison of photos at a reunion ten or so years back that Doug looks likes a younger version of his late father, my great-uncle Dalton.
All of which can be a bit spooky. I take comfort in the knowledge that circumstances do not necessarily repeat, and that even with similar physiques and temperaments that biology is not destiny. This is more a matter of principle -- there was no one there I could look at and think "oh God, I hope I never turn into *that*." If anything I had the uncomfortable feeling that we may be a eugenicist's wet dream. We're all pretty healthy (there is some history of breast cancer, but also a pretty good track record of surviving it). My Great-Aunt Janette is ninety-two and definitely still has all her marbles. None of us are particularly hideous.
