Remembering Dad
My dad grew up on a farm in Iowa. He tinkered and fixed all his life and he did it in a very thorough way. I remember standing next to him in our garage. Little me, dwarfed by his size and strength, focusing on the job in front of me because he was instructing me in hammering a nail. I remember he carefully trained me in the art of pounding - keeping the nail straight all the way into the board - and in the process patiently endured my crooked, miserable attempts.
He also had a very particular way of tackling any job at home. His way broke down into three distinct parts:
preparing to do the job
thoroughly doing the job
cleaning up from doing the job
Today I am sitting here marveling at the impact of his life upon mine once again. I realize that many people do not have the privilege of being the recipient of this kind of training. This is a loss to be sure because it helps a person to succeed in so many areas of life.
Have you noticed that while there always needs to be some kind of preparation for a job and the job sorta gets done - the cleaning up is another issue?
What about the:
loading, folding, wiping, squeegeeing, sweeping, hosing
disposing of dirty rags
putting tools away where they belong
starting a shopping list when supplies run low
emptying the vacuum and cleaning the filters
returning the tape dispenser, stapler, calculator, etc., etc., etc.
I am thankful that my dad took the time to train me in the art of finishing a task well. Right now, I am thinking fond thoughts, appreciative thoughts, remembering dad and his steady, thorough method of fixing. Thanks dad, so much!
Uh oh, but as I sit here, I am also remembering that I recently read that it is not a good idea to leave water in your iron between uses. Excuse me, I've got to run. I have something that needs to be finished up. Dad, I know you would be proud!
