He once told me,
“I want to take pictures just like you.”
And I swear, those words hit harder than anything I’ve ever heard. Because in that moment, I realized something few people ever do…
Kids don’t follow advice.
They follow example.
They copy your moves, your tone, your fire. They watch you closer than you think. They become the echo of your actions.
When I was a kid, I wanted to be like my father.
He wasn’t famous. He wasn’t rich. But he was skilled.
Once, he built a mechanical printer from scratch. A metal arm that held a pen and drew whatever the computer told it to. To me, that was wizardry. To him, it was just another Tuesday project.
Later in life, I watched him build a house. Nail after nail. Beam after beam.
That house still stands.
He doesn’t.
He’s gone now.
But sometimes, he shows up in my dreams… not saying much, just there.
Now, I see my son watching me the way I once watched him.
Those eyes that see everything.
He sees me behind the lens, chasing light.
He sees me designing, building, creating… turning ideas into something real.
And I see him absorbing it… mirroring my steps without even knowing it.
And it hits me… this is the circle.
The same spark, passed down like fire from one torch to the next.
That’s legacy.
Not money. Not property. Not some name etched in stone.
A father’s strength reborn in his son’s curiosity.
A spirit that refuses to fade.
I’m yet to watch my boy aim the camera and squint into the light…
But it will come.
I know it.
Time will tell.
