Joe’s Boy

Ben Cartwright adjusted his tie then took a step back from the mirror to inspect his appearance.  A crisp white shirt along with a simple, black string tie, perfect for the evening’s festivities. His gaze traveled upwards to his hair, neatly combed and, he suddenly seemed to notice, almost completely silver. Apparently he hadn't been paying enough attention, because he wasn’t quite sure when that had happened. It was all right though; he remembered his father’s hair had been entirely silver by the time he’d turned forty.  A silver crown, his mother had called it, making it sound like some type of reward or accomplishment. Perhaps the reward for a life of honest work and the accomplishment of raising three sons.

He tilted his head to one side, noting with approval that his dark eyes and eyebrows were a striking contrast to his hair, making him appear distinguished, stately. Maybe turning forty wouldn’t be so bad after all, he thought, smiling at his image in the mirror. Which unfortunately drew his attention to something else he hadn’t bothered to notice before.

Stepping closer to the mirror, he tentatively fingered the fine creases fanning out from the corners of each eye. Experimentally he smiled, noting that doing so caused the lines to deepen. Then he raised his eyebrows upward, relieved when the lines all but disappeared. On the other hand, lifting his eyebrows made the grooves across his forehead much more noticeable. He frowned, quickly looking away from the mirror when he saw that frowning made even more of the unsightly lines. “Dear Lord,” he whispered with sudden realization. “I’ve become my father.”

In his younger days, he reflected, people had always told him that he looked just like his father, although he had never really thought so before. But now, looking in the mirror, he couldn’t deny that the person looking back at him bore an amazing resemblance to his father. 

You must be Joe’s boy. The memory of those words made him feel both young and old and brought a wistful smile to his face. It seemed like forever since anyone had called him ‘Joe’s boy’, but the thought of it still made his heart swell with pride and joy.

Once upon a time he had strived to measure up to his father's image, lived to make his father proud. That hadn't changed, even after all these years. The only difference was that now he did so for the sake of his own sons. These days he was more likely to be referred to as Joe’s pa...or Hoss's or Adam's, which made his heart swell with a different sort of pride and joy.

He paused on this his fortieth birthday, to take a good hard look at the image -- the man in the mirror. Searching beyond the clothing, the graying hair and weathered features, past the outer shell. Because suddenly, whether or not he had become his father meant so much more than it had a moment ago.

back