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My Dad

Me and Dad in NC

A younger Turtlecove Brewer with my Dad in North Carolina where they had a summer home.

To every thing there is a season,
And a time to every purpose under the heaven:
A time to be born, and a time to die;

  – Ecclesiastes 3:1-2

This beautiful poem goes on of course but it seems that I am at the age where I have the honor to attend many funerals. Susan and I attended a service this weekend for my brother’s mother-in-law and even though it was a beautiful tribute with lots of humor and good cheer, tears can’t help but find their way round.

After the memorial my brother and I rendezvoused at my mom’s house for another difficult task. Mom is now officially in assisted living and now knows that she will never return home to her house. My brother and sister-in-law now live 150 miles from Orlando; I and Susan over 100 miles. The house can not be cared for and must be sold. Before listing the home however, a lifetime of my mom and dad’s belongings must be dispersed. There is a great deal that must be done and time is of the essence. My brother and I are blessed and we know it yet moving from room to room, sifting through closets decide what will be kept, by whom and what will be sold off for pennies at an estate sale. A lifetime sorted into tiny bundles, another tear moves down to the corner of my eye. Blessed but also a little bit stressed.

Hurriedly loading “my inheritance”, Susan and I return home physically drained and mentally exhausted. Susan decides that Sunday must be dedicated to cleaning our own house so more chores to do including unpacking the cars and putting up Mom’s gifts to us. One of the items that I laid claim to was a WorkMate Plus which for the last 15 years has been serving as a table in the garage. The WorkMate was one of the few items that I truly wanted and felt I could actually use. When I went to pack it up to put in the car I realized two things, 1) it needed lubricant and  2) I don’t know how WorkMates operate. Five minutes later and with the help of my brother, we had it folded up and loaded in the car.

After cleaning chores and unloading the car, I had a few minutes to lovingly fondle my new prize. I took a brush to the spider webs and tightened the bolts on the movable chock. I pulled out the WD40 and cleaned up the twin screws while lubricating the pivot points on the legs. I began to admire the design elegance and began to speculate how I would this compact bench inside the shop and out.

WorkMate-1

Dad’s WorkMate Plus and my finger. Hopefully the NSA won’t be able to pull any of my prints from this photo 😉

Then it hit me, this WorkMate belonged to my Dad. Suddenly warm memories of him flood over me. This portable workbench is just a thing, but it was HIS thing and every time I use the bench I will think of him and of the times we built things together. Suddenly I felt better, my memories of him made me feel better. Dad’s been gone now for 3 years and we all miss him. Thank-you for everything Dad, I’ve always loved you and always will.

You have been sharing memories and tears with the Turtlecovebrewer.

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  1. September 8, 2014 at 2:32 pm

    I agree completely. Some things are just that, things. But some are extensions of a person; they are reminders, they are old friends.
    This was a nice tribute to your dad.
    Bill

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