My husband was like Tim "The Toolman" Taylor from Home Improvement. He had more tools and gadgets and gizmos than anyone could imagine. Today I spent a couple of hours trying to organize all his screws, nails, nuts, washers, etc. into little tiny drawers that are part of an organizer he had bought and never loaded up. I only got a small percentage done. Tools will come next and I haven't got a clue what some of them even are. He didn't like to throw out old parts and pieces of broken appliances and whatnot. I found little motors, hooks, braces, brackets, bolts, clips, latches and other miscellaneous things in his tool box. I believe I will be throwing all of them away. I can't imagine that I will ever use any of it. There is a part of me that feels guilty out there in the garage reorganizing his tool collection. It was like the forbidden Kingdom all these years - mainly to the girls but sometimes also to me. If I was out there looking for a screwdriver or a nail or something he'd get real concerned and then insist on getting it for me. I think he was just afraid I'd disturb the collection and he'd never be able to find anything ever again. I pretty much preferred it this way because the whole area kind of scared me a little. And now here I am throwing away all those little things he was sure he'd one day need again and would come in handy.
While cleaning out a chest he used as a workbench, I found about 20 handwritten notes from inmates at the prison he worked at thanking him for helping them get their life back together. Years ago they had a program there called "RESTART" that was a boot camp of sorts for hardened convicts. He got involved at the onset of it and stayed with it until state budgeting cuts canceled it. Apparently he'd made a huge impact on quite a few young men's lives. I can't help wondering where they are today. I wonder how many are still locked up and how many are out trying to redeem their lives. Although there's no way of knowing, it was heart warming to read these letters and know they were heart felt. I would have to imagine there is some sort of permanent imprint he's left on their lives.
Mike's headstone is finally ready.
Nancy,
ReplyDeleteWhen I read your blog, I realize I have nothing intelligle to say that could help ease your burden at all. But, I want you to know I do read them, and although they make my heart ache, I appreciate your sharing glimpses of my brother's life that I missed out on over the years. God Bless you, and know that my prayers will always be with you.