The older I get, the more I realize certain things quietly start making sense in ways they never did before. Somewhere between rushing through childhood and trying to survive adulthood, pieces of our parents slowly attach themselves to us until, one day, we catch ourselves doing the exact same things we once rolled our eyes at as we were growing up. For some people, it is gardening. For others, it is getting excited about new kitchen appliances or talking about the weather as if it were breaking news. For me, it turned out to be bird watching, which still feels strange to admit considering how little interest there once was in anything involving bird feeders, binoculars or people excitedly identifying birds from across a yard. Teenage me would have been horrified to know someday, entire mornings would revolve around staring out the back door, waiting to see what landed near the feeder. My mom spent years pointing out birds while I nodded politely without absorbing a single detail…