There is a metal-clad shed with a large utility light at the very top peak of it that shines over the doorway in a small lot enclosed by a weathered wood fence. If you remove the piece of wood that holds the doors closed, you should be ready for them to swing out at you.
I have stood on that fence surrounding this shed and lot many times. I have also been on the hurtin’ end of a few splinters from that fence.
Once, on the other side of the fence, there was a brown horse named, I shit you not, Charlie. My pap bought him for me and my brother, but he bucked us off once and that horse didn’t get to stay around too much longer after that.
But I digress.
In that metal clad building, are rusted shells of saws and machinery that forever suntanned, leathery hands with permanent dirt laden fingernails once used on a regular basis to turn slabs of wood into wonderful things.
He built a cradle when I was born, he messed up on the ends a time or two though because I found the first tries in that shed long after he passed.
He made lamps, lots of lamps. And I’m sure he made other things too, but I am not old enough to remember it all.
By the time I was old enough to want to learn, he had retired those woodworking hands though. Farming was all he had left in him. I asked him to show me how it all worked, but perhaps like the tractor I so desperately wanted to learn how to drive, he was too scared I would hurt myself.
As I’ve grown up and learned how to use a miter saw and the great importance of a pilot hole, I like to think that even though he didn’t teach me how to use all those tools, those talents somehow passed from him to me, perhaps during an episode of The Price is Right one summer. Of course, this transfer phenomenon did cause the talent to become somewhat diluted.
Of course, this could also just be me trying once more to keep another part of him alive.
I will take it either way. Beggars can’t be choosers.
I can create striking accent walls with paint and tape. I can easily mix vintage with modern and a dose of glam. But what I love to do is feel raw wood against my hands and build something with it.
I like to think that comes from him.
It’s usually simple things of course, because I did mention that the talent was somewhat diluted when it was passed on to me. But moving a saw through wood, drilling a hole, and making something from a simple piece of wood makes me feel just a little closer to him.
Sometimes I’m pretty damn sure that when I look up through those sawdust covered safety glasses one time, he’s gonna be there.
But that’s the stuff Hollywood movies are made of, isn’t it?
Even if that never happens, I’d still like to think he’s awful proud of me. Even if all I did was build some simple bathroom shelves above the throne in our master bathroom.
They are quite the simple build and yes, the third time I’ve built shelves similar to these.
He might not care for the David bust much or the black paint on the shelves, but I think he’d be pleased with how well they turned out.
You can find the tutorial for how I built these specific shelves here – I had that weird bump-out in the wall to deal with. If you don’t have a weird bump-out like that, you can use this tutorial or this tutorial for the shelves.
You can read more stories here and specifically another one about a big-bellied farmer here.
I have no doubt you inherited your talent for woodworking from your Pap and yes I even believe he is smiling down on you and feeling real proud and for more than just the woodworking skills, I bet there is not a day that goes by that he doesn’t say “that is my little gal”.
What is it about this time of year that makes our thoughts of lost loved ones so intensified, I think about them all year long, but at Christmas that is when I really miss them I guess simply because it is Christmas.
I love, love, love those shelves you built, they are just great, I would love to build some, but alas the good lord forgot to put that part of my brain in.
Thank you, Patty. 🙂 I like to think that too. I’m with you – Christmas just makes it a little bit tougher.
Last year around this time, I commented on a post of yours about my Granddad and how we almost lost him not long before that. Well, in February, we did lose him. I don’t know why but reading this post made me cry. It was beautiful. I miss my Granddad & wish I had a blog to write about him in!
And now that the sappy stuff is out of the way…good job on the shelves!
Oh Nicolle, I am so sorry to hear that. I know this holiday season is going to be even more rough for you since it’s the first without him. You and your family will be in my prayers!
Had to go get the tissue box. Love when you share these stories. Have been missing my special love ones too. They are always with us as long as we remember and not forget. Wishing you and your family a Merry Chirstmas.
I’m glad you enjoyed the story, Debra. This time of the year is always a little harder. I hope you have a wonderful Christmas and New Year’s as well!
what a nice tribute to your Granddad. I know how you miss him….mine’s been gone for many years now, but quite often I think the same as you….I’m going to look up and he will be standing there, watching me and telling me that I’m a keeper. He always told me that. I’m a keeper! Memories are awesome things to have, especially at this time of the year. Merry Christmas to you and yours!
Merry Christmas to you and your family as well, Sharon! You’re a keeper! 🙂
Pap is definitely smiling down on you. I don’t think the talent was diluted through the passage of generations at all. Talent manifests itself differently in you than it did in him, but it’s there all the same. Yours makes itself known through your creativity with paint, color and shelf-building. His shone through his lamps. It’s the same creative spirit, the same talent…..just two different people.
Merry Christmas Jenna, Grunt Labor, Nicky, Bill and The Circus!
Thanks, Brigitte! I love your insight on it! Merry Christmas to you as well!
I feel the same way, every time I am in my garden. (especially with Iris & Daffodils) I feel that much closer to my Grandma and I’m sure my talent is also diluted- passed down during wheel of fortune episodes though. I still think they are probably pretty proud of us! And your shelves are awesome!
I think they are too, girl! 🙂