Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Working late at my dad's
"Crap," he said.
"What does this mean?"
"The trucks lights plug is bad, and it doesn't really matter the trailers lights needed reworked anyway."
So an hour past and we got the lights on the truck to connect to the trailer and it made me feel good to help him once again.
"I know it is late, James but can you help me clean up the shop."
"Sure," I answered, even though I wished nothing more than to go to bed.
We brought the tools inside and started wiping them down. I was like a robot picking a tool up, examining, cleaning it to a shin, and then returning it to it place on the bend. That was where he hung most of his tools. We even painted them pink at one point so we could tell that they went above the bench.
The shop as clean and soon I was saying goodbye.
I awoke then, I tried not to cry, I both love and hate that dream. I miss him especial days like this. God rest his soul.