Proudly Inheriting

For a child, his stick was a signal to run,

All his pupils feared it, just like me.

I'd imitate his gait, his every move,

Yet I can't recall him wielding it on me.

Despite his stern demeanour and rigid ways,

He showered me with love and praise,

And shared tales of his past and all he'd seen.

From his grandson to his final student,

I cherish this honour up close, serene.

I carry a tenacity within me,

One that I sometimes disdain,

But he said it was a virtue, a strength to hold,

And he meant it in a good way, wise.

It's been a year since we lost him,

All that remains are bittersweet memories,

All now just a part of my musings.

Even in his hospital bed, he smiled at me,

Through the pain and the fading hymn,

I felt his love, it harmonized.

I used to dispute with my parents,

Denying the similarities,

With a stubbornness of my own,

But now I see, with all clarity,

Perhaps I am emulating him just like the kid.