Dad Daze: If you don’t look back, how can you move forward?

My son Milo’s biology teacher tugged at his floppy ears two years ago and said, “This is genetics. How did you get these ears?” “I got them from my father,” Milo said. “But your father’s ears aren’t like yours,” she said. About all that beats genetics is plastic surgery. When I was 4 years old, my parents elected to pin my ears back, and there went my chance to portray Prince Charles.

Milo and I recently looked into our genetic makeup courtesy of 23 and Me, a testing service that generates reports relating to customer’s ancestry and genetic predispositions to health-related topics. The company’s name comes from the fact that there are 23 pairs of chromosomes in a wild type human cell.

The results are fascinating. What prompted the personal inquiry was lunch with Northern Quest Resort & Casino’s director of public relations and communications, Julie Holland, last winter. Holland was certain that she was primarily Scandinavian but discovered her ancestry is primarily British. I spoke with a number of other folks who checked in with 23 and Me, and most were surprised that their ancestry is from around the world.

I was taken aback, as well, and perhaps I shouldn’t have been. When I was growing up, my mother explained to me that many Philadelphians married their own ethnicity. No surprise since Philly, much like Boston and Cleveland, is divided into ethnic neighborhoods. She said her parents implored their children to marry Polish, and most of my aunts and uncles complied. My mother married for love and tied the knot with my father, who was a mixed European bag.

My eyes widened to see that my roots were almost entirely in Poland. It appears that Krakow and the surrounding area is where most of my forefathers lived. My mother was a proud Pole, and I guess I shouldn’t be surprised I shared many of her same traits, face, legs and hands. Her paws were huge, just a bit smaller than mine. So, yes, my roots are in Poland, a country half the size of Texas, with family in Belarus, the Ukraine and Romania.

But then there is Milo, who is 55% Eastern European, and I was surprised to see with my wife’s DNA, Milo is 1% Greek, 1% Scandinavian and the rest from the British Isles. Who could have guessed?

23 and Me offers health information. The health predisposition were spot on since I know my body well since I’m either a hypochondriac or, according to my physician friend, a proactive patient. I have ocular issues, and I have flat feet. I possess the genetic variants that suggest I might have vision and foot troubles.

For folks who avoid the doctor, 23 and Me’s health reports are beneficial. The traits, which suggested that I was a bald baby, possess a detached earlobe and no cleft palate, were spot on. It also notes that I’m likely to rise at 7:32 a.m. and likely not to have a fear of public speaking or heights. Check.

You can find DNA relatives courtesy of 23 and Me. Since I’m an only child, I couldn’t wait to see if there is anyone out there who is a close DNA match, and there are such folks. I discovered a Florida woman who shares 15 segments of DNA. To put it in perspective, a son shares 22 segments with their father.

23 and Me has prompted a genealogical search. My cousin paid for a deep dive years ago, but I wasn’t interested or was afraid who might be in my family tree. What if there are embezzlers or charlatans who possessed the surname Condran?

I couldn’t help but analyze photos of myself at my children’s ages. Milo, 16, glanced at some of my photos and laughed while looking at the 18-year old version of me. “That’s Eddie’s smile,” Milo said.

When we looked back at childhood studio shots of yours truly, some photos resembled Milo and others Eddie, who is 19. Genetics is fascinating. But it’s not only about appearance. Three of four of my children write well.

Laura, a longtime college friend, pointed out how cool it is that my daughter Jillian, 22, is working in the music industry, and both of my boys are still playing baseball. Both are passions, and apparently it’s been passed down.

I’ve never met anyone who is as much like me as Milo, who is also short-tempered, pathologically late for everything and always ready with a barb. At midlife, I’m compelled to look back, and I like what I see. My children don’t quite appreciate, it but then again I didn’t have a grasp of it until now. It feels good looking back since it’s something I rarely do due to all of the plates that I’m spinning simultaneously.

Last weekend, I immersed myself in the past since 23 and Me prompted me to look back. As I’ve matured, I appreciate my parents now more than ever. I also understand why they wanted more than one child even though Milo maintains that I must have been more than they could have handled.

Having children is exhausting and at times frustrating and nerve-wracking. But after comparing my genetics report with Milo, it’s a reminder of how rewarding it is to have kids who are kind, giving and curious.

“To know where I come from is kind of cool,” Milo said. Knowledge is power, and if you don’t look back, how can you move forward?