Ok, I’ll admit it…I like to fix things. I like to build things, update things, and convert old things into new, once again usable things. One might argue that I’m a control freak. Hey… I’ll own that; if we’re talking about the things in my own house that get worn out, break, or just become too boring to stand for ONE MINUTE longer, I’m on it. Factor in that it will save us money and NO ONE else wants to do it, and Heck Yeah, I’m in control.
I was lucky enough to have an awesome dad who never met a problem he wouldn’t at least TRY to fix. Whether it was figuring out how to build a bookcase from salvaged wood, re-shingling the roof, tinkering in the car engine because he didn’t like some weird sound, or working his way through the crawl space under the house to find out where the mice were coming in – Daddy was the man for the job. And he was happy to have me being right there with him – except for the crawl space… ew…
I am still in awe of the things he could figure out, especially in a world without Pinterest or You-Tube. I will be forever grateful for the opportunity to learn at his side, not just about fixing and building things, but also how to deal with and treat other people with grace, humility, and respect. Without stepping all over my growing femininity, he introduced me to the world that, just a few decades before, was almost solely dominated by men. Perhaps knowing that his strong-willed daughter would demand acceptance, he made sure I was comfortable and capable enough to hold my own in whatever I finally chose to do with my life.
There isn’t a soul alive (or passed, for that matter) who didn’t love my dad. His grace, humor, and respect for others is the bar by which I measure myself. Sometimes (ok… almost all the time) I get carried away with striving for perfection, but I’m learning to temper that a bit. In the end, I’m happy if I’m satisfied with the finished project. And if I feel that my Dad, if he were right there beside me, would say: “That’s really nice, honey” then I know I’ve sailed over my bar.