I know that most people have never experienced this but there's 100% something to be said about that feeling when you're doing something, eating something, talking about something, watching something, making a joke about something, or making a face in response to something, and the whole time you're thinking that this is something that you do, something that you came up with, something that is completely and entirely yours, and then your mom or grandma walks by and says "Hey, your dad used to do/say/eat/enjoy that. We always thought he was weird for it. How did you know about that?" and the truth is that you didn't. You didn't know about it. You started doing this thing on your own, and now you have to accept the fact that the phrase "gone but not forgotten" isn't an observation about memory; it's also about genetics and habits and hobbies and facial expressions and preferences and feelings. As a child of death, you always thought that you were more independently shaped by your loneliness and your experience with pain rather than any parental influences, but you were wrong. Your father is still there.
If that makes any sense. Idk though.
