His Fingerprints

My dad was always the person you called when something needed fixing.

He owned every tool imaginable and knew how to use all of them.

When my parents lived in another state, every visit home seemed to come with a project waiting for him. One of us needed a shelf hung, a light fixture replaced, a piece of furniture assembled, a wall or deck painted, or something repaired.

We jokingly reserved him in advance.

Dad never seemed to mind.

He liked being needed.

Recently, my daughter and I were putting together a small side table for my parents.

The pieces and hardware were spread out in front of us while we

worked through the instructions.

Dad sat nearby watching.

Every so often he would ask, "Do you need any help?"

The question made me smile.

For most of my life, he would have been the one assembling the table while the rest of us stood around handing him parts.

This time was different.

At one point, we asked him to hold something in place while we lined up a piece.

Later, we needed help turning the table upright.

When one corner was't quite locking into place, we called Dad over.

He gave it a quick bang with his fist.

The corner clicked into place immediately.

"There you go."

For a moment it felt familiar.

I thought to myself, there are pieces of my dad woven into every one of our homes.

In the spaces he helped renovate.

The furniture he assembled.

The walls he helped paint.

The tile he helped lay.

The countless projects that seemed ordinary at the time.

His fingerprints are everywhere.

But they're not only in our homes.

They're in us, too.

I love that I'm handy because of my dad.

Some of his grandchildren are, too.

He passed along more than tools and know-how.

He passed along the confidence to try.

To build.

To fix.

To work hard.

To figure things out.

And maybe that's why that afternoon stayed with me.

Not because we built a side table.

But because even as life continues to change, I was reminded that some things remain.

His fingerprints are everywhere.

xo Julissie