Daddy's Tools

This weekend was a weekend of nostalgia...cleaning out the Dad's garage. Again...I was "sandwiched". My girls were in Oklahoma City having fun...and Mom needed me. Do you choose to spend time with the girls...shopping and giggling...or go home to be with Mom? Weighing between wants and needs...isn't that what most of life boils down to? I chose the path of need...knowing that the other path, although fun, would be filled with guilt.

So...after work on Friday night I headed out alone to go be with Mom. The weekend before had been especially hard for all of us since it was the one month anniversary of Dad's death. Although I was tired...I put in Barbara Streisand...and sang big! Then...followed that up with "Newsies"! I was bound for showbiz in my van on the road! Stopped for a cappuccino in Weatherford...to keep me awake for the duration of the road trip. Got to Rising Star around 10:00....and as I entered his town the heavy cloak of grief draped itself around me.

It is easy to pretend that Dad is still alive while at home. It just feels normal most days....and then I remember. He is gone...and I will never see him again. But when I drive to his town...pull into his driveway....and pass his bedroom it is hard to pretend. Even wearing the cloak....it is good to be home.

We tackled the garage on Saturday morning...early. What is it about men and their tools? Dad was not known for his expertise as a mechanic or a handyman around the house. Even still....he had tools! I guess every time he needed a nail...he went to town and bought a little brown bag of nails....and used a couple....leaving the rest in the bag. We emptied dozens of little brown bags into a bucket. He also kept empty containers....lots of them...this also is a man thing. I think they think that they will need these empty containers to house nails.....but somehow the little nails stayed snug in brown bags and the containers remained empty....waiting for the little nails. Shelf by shelf we sorted cleaned and trashed "stuff".

Guy chose the things he wanted....I picked out anything that I thought might be good to keep....and a junk man came and gave us $50 to haul the rest off. Mom now has a squeaky clean garage. How sad...all day I could hear Dad's voice in my head...."Aw...Beck...don't mess with all that ole' junk." His voice is in my head a lot these days.....I can hear it as clear as a bell.....I am scared I might forget it. Will I? I hope not.....I want to keep the voice. After cleaning up the garage....we settled in to picking out pecans. I brought home pounds and pounds of pecans. Shelling peas, picking out pecans....picking okra...those are the tasks that Dad and I enjoyed together. They are just one of the many things that will remind me of him.

Sunday was especially hard.....the ritual of getting ready for church...the drive to church...pulling into the parking lot.....his pew.....the singing. It was all just so difficult. My plan was to "be there" for mom.....but I wasn't much good at it today. I walked out during the second song.....spent some time in the ladies room....just sitting on the lid of the toilet....sobbing. Where did that come from? I could just see Dad in his blue sweater with the burgundy trim....kind of bent over....with his rough ole' hands folded. AND....then we went to Pizza Heaven for heaven's sake! :) Our favorite after church place....cheap pizza....and lots of it!

Then back home. Where is home these days? Here...there....where is my heart? To whom do I belong? Tomorrow I will not be a daughter...I will be a grandmother. In between...I will be a mom, a wife and a teacher. Suddenly...I feel weary. Is there enough to go around....can I do it? Can I be all that?

So here I am again...picking out headstones for grave sites...and picking out bridesmaid dresses for an upcoming wedding. "Sandwiched".....between past, present and future.....generations....and that is life.