Plumbing the Lines
I thought about my dad this past Saturday, and again on Tuesday of this week. That's not to say I don't think of my dad regularly, but doing home or car repair always reminds me of him. He's still around, just not in the same state I live.
Mechanical inclination. That's my dad. I remember throughout childhood having left-handed and right-handed threads explained to me over and over (not that I ever really grasped "righty-tighty, lefty-loosy" until i got my first job in high school, or that i've yet to ever come across anything i had to use that had left-hand threading). The countless times i passed wrenches to him while he worked on one of our family's cars, or someone else's, for that matter. Or the number of times i waited until he was fully engaged under one of said vehicles, so i could sneak off to a friend's house down the street for playtime, much less boring than fixing cars.
Mechanical inclination. That never was me growing up, much to my dad's frustration. It's not that he didn't love me, it's just that he had trouble "getting" me. And i SO did not "get" the mechanical workings of things. I've never known anyone who's a harder worker than my dad, but i'm also pretty sure i never got anyone out of sorts more over my inability to hit a baseball as it crossed homeplate. My dad didn't get angry about such things, but how do you help a kid who can't do what comes naturally to you, no matter how many times you explain it or practice.
I'm a slow learner about such things. I'm great in a classroom, just keep me out of the labs - i'm worthless. Give me theory, not hands-on. Dad's very hands-on. But while he couldn't get how to fix a car ingrained in my head, at least he gave me his genes. So maybe i won't know what to do with my kids one day, because they're all about their tool kits and don't want to have anything to do with reading or music. That'll be fun.
Anyway, where was i? Oh, yeah! So Saturday, i fixed the kitchen sink. THAT was a new experience. Then, Tuesday, i fixed the upstairs bathtub. First instinct after? "I gotta call Dad."
Grace and peace.
Mechanical inclination. That's my dad. I remember throughout childhood having left-handed and right-handed threads explained to me over and over (not that I ever really grasped "righty-tighty, lefty-loosy" until i got my first job in high school, or that i've yet to ever come across anything i had to use that had left-hand threading). The countless times i passed wrenches to him while he worked on one of our family's cars, or someone else's, for that matter. Or the number of times i waited until he was fully engaged under one of said vehicles, so i could sneak off to a friend's house down the street for playtime, much less boring than fixing cars.
Mechanical inclination. That never was me growing up, much to my dad's frustration. It's not that he didn't love me, it's just that he had trouble "getting" me. And i SO did not "get" the mechanical workings of things. I've never known anyone who's a harder worker than my dad, but i'm also pretty sure i never got anyone out of sorts more over my inability to hit a baseball as it crossed homeplate. My dad didn't get angry about such things, but how do you help a kid who can't do what comes naturally to you, no matter how many times you explain it or practice.
I'm a slow learner about such things. I'm great in a classroom, just keep me out of the labs - i'm worthless. Give me theory, not hands-on. Dad's very hands-on. But while he couldn't get how to fix a car ingrained in my head, at least he gave me his genes. So maybe i won't know what to do with my kids one day, because they're all about their tool kits and don't want to have anything to do with reading or music. That'll be fun.
Anyway, where was i? Oh, yeah! So Saturday, i fixed the kitchen sink. THAT was a new experience. Then, Tuesday, i fixed the upstairs bathtub. First instinct after? "I gotta call Dad."
Grace and peace.