He was no male model, but...

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A few weeks ago Wendy said that when I turned to look at her, her breath caught in her throat a bit because of how much I looked like Frank.

For most of my life I've been bemused to think I resembled my father. One of the things you never consider very fully until you're deep into adulthood is how physically attractive your parents are (or were when they were younger).

I've been telling my mother my entire life she looks 10 or 15 years younger than her age, and I've genuinely thought so – she's still full of more pep, colour and vitality than most women almost 30 years younger. But the idea that any man would look sideways at her and think 'phwoar' is a completely alien notion to me as one of her offspring. I've always joked with her that her and Dad must have had sex at least twice, beyond that I don't want to think about it.

But my Dad was different again. We all remember what shape he was for most of his life (at least, for my whole life). His beer belly was very carefully curated and maintained, and it was one of his signature physical features. I've written elsewhere in this blog about how it was also an object of utility, acting as a stable table for a can of Reschs Pilsner as he floated around the Gabo Place pool on a sunberg.

But now, embarking on my 50s and very aware that the forthcoming years will sap my own vitality, energy and physical condition, I can look at pictures of him from way back to his boyhood years and see things I never noticed before.

I've heard this arbitrarily from family members throughout the years, but he really wasn't a bad looking bloke. I've seen my own face looking back at me when I've looked at pictures of him throughout his life and still didn't really twig how that meant my own spectacularly jaw dropping masculine beauty is inherited.

Mum's always been a looker, but I've spent the last decade or so slowly learning that Dad might have fluttered a few hearts in his time too. I won a bit of a genetic lottery with them both.

So now, when Wendy tells me how strongly I suddenly reminded her of him because of the angle, the light or something else, I'm completely okay with it.

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