Reflections 7: Father

The father who would taste the essence of his fatherhood must turn back from the plane of his experience, take with him the fruits of his journey and begin again beside his child, marching step by step over the same old road. ~Angelo Patri

Where did your father go to work every day and what did he do?

Daddy worked as a grease monkey, a mechanic. He was really really good, too. He had been doing it since he was 16 or so, so he had a lot of experience.

He worked at several car dealerships while I was growing up, none of which I remember very clearly. He seemed to like his job, like working. He was always fixing up cars at home, letting me read instructions from his manuals to him, even though he didn't really need my help. His shop was full of the neatest tools: big shiny red tool boxes filled with the dozens of sets of screwdrivers my siblings and I got him every Christmas; the smell of WD40 in the air; a great big cherry picker....

He has never stopped working on cars or being interested in them, though he got too sick to work when I was 11 or so.