I swore i would never turn into my father
That weak, sorry excuse for a man
I swore I would nev end up like him
Then he died
I Began to notice things
It started with his nervous tick
That insietent biting of my lowere lip
Then in my stride,
 a slight buoyancy 
A cross between a spring and stroll
Then laugh
Somehow joyous 
Uninhibited
Seeming to carry in it all the joy of the universe
Wrapped in one moment
Then the worrying began
Wanting to keep those I loved safe
So though I swore I would  never to turn into that weak, kind, gentle , sweet man
I did.