Dad’s Workshop

Spent most of the afternoon in the southbound lanes of I95. My apologies if I passed any of you and didn’t wave. On the longer trips I tend to enter the zone. This is especially so if I find a good radio station. Every so often I tune in American University’s bluegrass programming in the afternoon. I wasn’t in the area at the proper time today, oh well.

Had a great time in PA, took the kids to Hershey Park, ate an awesome banana split, conquered a hornets nest and spent some time “reflecting” in my Dad’s workshop. My Dad passed away 4 years ago this November. My Mom routinely reminds my Brother and I that we can have anything of my Dad’s that we want. So far neither of us have taken anything. I’m not sure why.

Carla has shared her feelings regarding her Mother’s recent passing over on ahtelluwat:Real Conversations with God. I love the advice her husband Matt gives her about not being in a hurry to get rid of her Mom’s stuff. My Mom has cleaned out closets and donated clothing, but my Dad’s workshop is unaltered. Each visit to PA I find myself spending some time just walking around the shop and looking at things. Often my Brother is there as well and we talk about stuff; nothing very deep. My Dad was not very deep. He was a machinist by trade, anal by nature and hardworking by upbringing. He loved his family, enjoyed his tractors and hated intrusive blue jays. That was my Dad.

One thought though; if my Brother and I were to divide up those things we would no longer have my Dad’s workshop…