There are several things that I inherited from my father.

I looked a lot like him when I was younger, very much so that I was often surprised and/or startled by my reflection on mirrors. Is that me or my father?

Pictures taken of me at that time continue to amaze me. The similarities are striking, if not uncanny. The tilt of the head, the smile, the mustache, and the protuding ears. Oh, and certainly the good looks, if I may say so myself.

I stand 5’7” which is tall for a Filipino and I guess I inherited that height from him too since he was quite a towering man.

My dad was very good at welding. He was also quite adept at operating a lathe machine and all the other pieces of equipment in our electrical and mechanical shop.

Well, I am very good with my hands too – in a minor way. Give me a screw driver, a coping saw, a drill, or Krazy/Gorilla/Elmer’s glue and I can fix a few things here and there, or whip up a doodad or a whatchamallit.

He was creative and artistic which explains my fulfilling and ardent passion for the creative arts.

I could add more to the list, but there is one inherited trait that I celebrate when the outcome is beneficial, but regret when it is defeating.

My father could stare at the walls – endlessly, even in the dark.

Being quite young and cautious (he was a strict disciplinarian) and most probably unconcerned, I never dared to ask him what he was really thinking about.

Were his thoughts about how he could make our electrical/mechanical shop profitable? How to make ends meet? How to raise 10 children under one roof? How to proceed with several of his inventions?

I knew he had several close motorcycle friends he nightly went on drinking sprees with.

Was he thinking about them? What would they be talking about over bottles of beer? Their motorcycles? The future? Politics? Women? The effects of liquor on their liver?

I was sure that there were other contemplative reasons, but he was quite good at spacing out.

Like father, like son, I too can stare at the walls – endlessly.

I am quite good at visualizing a project from its inception to completion, and in color yet.

Finding answers to questions can be exhausting, but I can usually zero in on one solution or come up with a short list of possibilites.

I can entertain myself by visualizing a favorite passage in a book or a scene in a movie over and over and over, creating a better and happier scenario.

Finding reasons for my being on this earth is a fun exercise. Crazy antics, encounters, or mishaps, always color and add spice to my waking moments. Surely, I am making a positive difference, somehow or another, to a person, place, or thing.

On the flip side; however, I can, sans a neat segue, find myself engrossed in a very defeating and wasteful “could-have-would-have-should-have-what-if” syndrome.

What could have I done to keep my teeth healthy, thus avoiding very cumbersome partial dentures and very expensive dental implants?

Had I replaced the aquarium water, cleaned the filters, and got a new impeller for my filter canister, would Elsa, my beautiful fantailed goldfish, have survived?

Why hadn’t I figured out why and how to ultimately remove the clog from my kitchen sink drainage sooner? I could have avoided washing dishes in the bathroom for several years!

Would I have a continued nice crop of hair had I not used the wrong guard when trimming with an electric hair clipper?

Had I not missed watering my award-winning miniature bonsai trees for one day, would they have continued wowing judges/members/visitors at the Annual Bonsai Show at the Chicago Botanical Garden instead of ending in a compost heap?

Would I be enjoying a significant beneficial difference had I moved to a bigger city instead of staying in a small town?

I can carry a tune, but had I continued paying a voice teacher $25 for a 30-minute session (she sang most of the time instead of me), would I now have a melodious and dependable vibrato?

Would I have colon cancer because I had missed being “regular” for a few days? Since I’ve had occasional headaches, would I have cancer cells in my brain? Would there be new study to explain my hypochondria? Wait, I think I am feeling something weird down my toes? What could it be? Is the cancer spreading?

Had I endured the driving and the traffic to have my acting chops challenged in Chicago, would I be a more and widely acclaimed actor by now?

What if I had concentrated on refining a passion instead of suddenly switching energies to entertain the new flavor of the month? Would I then be labeled as the derogatory “A Jack of all trades, Master of none” or as the complimentary “A Renaissance Man”?

Would I have a more successful and profitable career had I pursued a promising prospect as a Detail/Technical Representative for a Medical Company?

Would my significance as a loyal employee be more enhanced had I stayed employed till my 50^th year of service with the same hospital instead of retiring on Friday, April 13, 2018, instead of October 10, 2019?

What if I was born in a different month instead of January? Would I be less filled with a seemingly endless self doubt, heightening the procrastination that Aquarians are associated with?

What if I had moved closer to nieces and nephews who currently live far from me? Would it have affected my independence and my being a loner?

What if I had decided not to get on board the plane to the United States on September 19, 1969 and stayed in the Philippines instead? Would I have a more exciting, successful, and rewarding life? Would I have felt less challenged being “at home”? Would I have felt less insecure being in my native country in contrast to still feeling like a stranger in a different country despite having lived there for decades?

What if I had not become incommunicado to my family for years? Would I have enjoyed their physical growth, attitude changes, and ongoing relationship with me? Would I have celebrated siblings’ weddings; cheered the birth of my nieces and nephews; and missed them after they flew the coop? Would I have the chance to tell my father, mother, oldest sister, and two younger brothers that I loved them and how much they meant to me before they passed away?

What if I had controlled my temper when I was on the verge of an outburst? Could it have salvaged a shaky friendship?

What if I had returned the last phone call from a dear friend? Could it have made his final goodbye to this earth complete?

What if I had turned right instead of left on my way to a destination? Could I have avoided an accident or worse, a disaster? Have I then made better choices? Have I metamorphosed into a better version of me?

Now, making this list is quite funny and ironic. It underscores what I should be avoiding in the first place – being caught in a pointless effort.

On the contrary, being drawn into this “could-have-would-have-should-have-what-if” cognition is somewhat productive. It is analogous to turning an angst into a refreshing exercise. It is therapeutic. I now feel somewhat lighter. No regrets.

Oh, and thanks, Papa!