Tracks In The Dust

My Father’s Drill

As a father of four children, I was never truly keen on the meaning of “Fathers Day”. It seemed like one of those days set aside to commemorate something that should be observed every day of the year. But then I recall as a child, I was not the best at  reflecting on the genuine care my dad provided to me those days.

The old and the new.

As i got older I had very fond memories to recall. Many of them that I didn’t even realize I had absorbed at the time. But he was indeed the kind of father that I can say now I hope that I have been to my children.

He was in some ways distant like every working father would be from time to time. Busy making a “living” and trying to provide for his family. We had some great and very traditional family vacations, station-wagon packed to the windows and trips to cabins in the woods and relatives near and far. There were some personal times fishing together and spending time in the back yard at the grill.

So the movie of the younger days and  “good” times plays back in my head, along with some black and white photos and a few 8 MM films. After I got married and we moved away, we were still close enough to get “visits” from him and my mom. We would visit them too.

They worked hard to have an active retired life, but they were also there when I needed them. It has been over 20 years since he passed from this earth. I still remember all of our times together fondly.

When my wife and I got our first home, he gave me some of his tools ( a new homemaker must have tools!). One of them was a power-drill. Nothing special really, but to this day I have had it in my tool box.

It has his drivers-licence etched into the side, the label (Black and Decker I think) has fallen off. Last time I used it was recently with my son – when we were working on some kitchen cabinets. The drill worked, but it sparks were coming from the body of it. It was still a functional tool, but it had seen generations of better times. Time takes toll on everything and everyone.

So with regret I will likely now retire the drill, most likely bought at the local hardware store in my small home town in Wisconsin. Most likely with dozens upon dozens of projects for the home behind it. It will be replaced by a drill bought from Amazon (not made in the USA I am afraid) and shipped to my door. A concept my dad would have marveled at.

Or maybe I should hand the drill off to my son? Tell him to be careful with the “sparks” inside, but mind the fact that it has worked well for decades of projects meant to build on the future.