My dadI remember when I was a very little girl sleeping in the middle bunk of the trundle bed my dad built for my two sisters and me. I remember being thirsty and unwilling to get up in the dark (and more importantly walk by the scary back porch which I always thought housed mice ready to attack me). I would call for my dad and he'd bring me a glass of water.
I wonder if I'll ever stop calling my dad when I'm in distress.
My whole life he has been the fixer of problems. He could repair broken things like toys or books or jewelry or feelings.
In high school my sisters and I drove embarrassingly old cars that somehow got us to town and back between repairs by my dad. If we ever had a flat tire or a car that wouldn't start (or had just driven through a fence--accidentally of course), he was who we would call. He always came to rescue us, fix the problem and usually laugh at us in the process which turned out to be somehow comforting. Maybe it wasn't the end of the world.
He's still rescuing us. I've called him with theological questions, automotive problems, home repair quandaries and furnace trouble...and that's just recently.
Today--of course since Adam's gone, when else would such a thing happen--our furnace stopped working. I did the only natural thing, I called my dad in Nevada. Although he's never owned a furnace that runs on natural gas, he was my troubleshooter and adviser. He helped me decipher the owners manual which seemed to be written in English but not really.
It means the world to me that I could call my dad and get his reassurance. My enormously fortunate sisters live within walking distance of our dad and I'm green with envy most of the time. I'm glad he's on the other end of my phone calls though.
I don't know who else I'd call.
My dad makes things like this when he's not solving my problems.
Here's his shop...and fan club.
And here's the house he built. (OK--now I'm bragging...)
3 comments:
And they that shall be of thee shall build the old waste places: thou shalt raise up the foundations of many generations; and thou shalt be called, The repairer of the breach, The restorer of paths to dwell in. (Isaiah 58:12)
Mark Dahl. Jeff and I both believe that he is truly a renaissance man...I still can't believe I'm related to him...he's a legend in his own time.
I'm so glad you posted those pictures! I just came from a visit to see my own Dad and I can appreciate how much you appreciate yours! And I've always been especially fond of your dad...once I got over being scared of him.
Post a Comment