Daddy’s Hands

Day 166 (Written Saturday May 26) ~ Growing up my dad and I always related to one another through sports. From the time I was five until I started playing high school ball my dad coached me in most all the sports I played. We have watched a thousand games on tv and in person together, even the bitter rivalry of the Third Saturday In October (Tennessee vs. Alabama, we root for opposite teams). We have played more rounds of golf together than I can remember. We’ve gone to high school, college and pro games in baseball, basketball and football. We’ve gone to Nashville, Memphis, Birmingham, Knoxville, Tuscaloosa, Atlanta, Boston and Chicago. Sports is our thing. Sports have always been our thing. But sports is kind of our only thing. We just don’t have a great deal in common outside of sports. We don’t like much of the same music (we do both like 50’s, but he also likes Train, yikes), he isn’t a fan of reading (although he read a couple of mafia related books that I liked) and he thinks most of the movies I like are weird. We do both love food, a lot, although he doesn’t share my love of cooking it. There have been times when I have wondered if we were even related. We can just be so different, but then there are days like today. I bought a fixer upper lawnmower for when I moved to Georgia and I got it cheap. I invested a small amount into getting it fixed and was ready to go. Only I wasn’t. Once we got it off the truck and started it up there was a problem, the blades didn’t work. It’s funny how adversity can often be the ingredients for magic. One way in which I am just like my dad is in our disdain for and frustration with mechanical things. I have had people screaming in my face, spitting all over me in the process, grabbing me by my tie and all the while I stay as cool as the other side of the pillow, but you let a weed eater not start after a few pulls on the cord and I might literally throw it into the creek while screaming incomprehensible syllables of rage. This fact is what makes today all the more amazing in my mind. So what happened? Dad and I got under the lawnmower, got out the tools, figured out what was wrong and fixed it! For many men this would be a “So what?”, but for us this was a really big deal. We are not the fixing kind of guys. Granted, I have noticed in the last eight or so years that my dad has really gotten good at fixing stuff, and I am getting better, but this was a big deal. Not just that we did it, but that WE did it. He needed my help and I needed his. I couldn’t have ever done it without him. This may sound silly to some who are more mechanically inclined, but this is one of the proudest moments of my life. I had such a sense of accomplishment and pride and closeness to my dad. It was the same feeling I used to get when we would play catch in the yard when I was a kid. Who would have ever thought that a tool in my dad’s hands could not only fix my lawnmower but also build a bond between us?