Genes

Today I’m struggling with destiny. Tomorrow probably something else, but you deal with these things as they come. Whilst burning away a snowy morning watching old episodes of Northern Exposure (along with Twin Peaks and the Sopranos, some of the best TV ever made), came across a theory that hadn’t occurred to me before.

At this point our daughter’s genetic make up is already set in stone. It’s already been determined if she likes strawberries, if she will be tall or short, if she’ll be blonde or brunette. Beyond that, it’s likely already determined if she’ll have a chemical imbalance that causes her to be shy at school dances, or the loud one at office parties. Then there’s the health issues, heart or blood pressure to name the obvious touch stones, but then there’s the subtler issues as well: will she have allergies? Fear of heights? Nobody knows but it could already be decided.

The only way to try to wrap our heads around this is to look back at our own families and try to suss out trends. Is there a kleptomaniac uncle out there somewhere? A history of royal inbreeding perhaps? A thin strand of musical genius perhaps? This isn’t even to mention the infinite combinations that could come from all of Corrie’s history and all of mine. Just because the possibilities are so varied doesn’t change the fact that one result of this genetic lottery has already been picked. The gun has been fired; we’re just waiting to see where it hits the target.

But even considering all that, what really keeps me in a state of abject wonder is the idea, the possibility that there is something more here than the simple synthesis of two known personalities. This gets into the whole realm of creative arts, but to summarize it one way, is art simple the rearranging of a standard set of building blocks, or is it possible to create something entirely new in and of itself? (For more on this, read “the Glass Bead Game”, which states the questions much better than I ever could) Are we like cakes, all basically eggs flour and milk with different types of icing, or more like a mixed grill, different kinds of sausages all cooked together?

What makes this whole thing so fascinating though is the thought that one way or another, be it synthesis or thesis, our daughter already, by simple nature of her DNA already, is somebody that could never come about through any combination other than the two of us. Nothing you cook can’t also be cooked by somebody else. No song could be written that may not have already been hummed by somebody else. No combination of colors on a canvas will be mathematically certain to be unique. Take your thousand monkeys typing on a thousand keyboards and just wait until they produce the complete works of Shakespeare.
But this…. This Daughter of ours that we’re just waiting to meet... Nobody else can do this, and nobody else ever will.