Sadly, the time has come that my Grandfather can no longer return to his home. So, on Saturday my family met to sort through and clear out his shed.
There is something so honest about Poppa’s workshop. Everything had it’s place. Everything was considered. From a wood off-cut that might come in handy sometime soon, to jars with every possible nail, screw and fastner – the organisation was meticulous. It was beautiful.
More than a workshop, Poppa’s shed was part of his identity. Handy, practical and dependable, he’s always been Mr Fix-It.
So, as we took everything out, and packed away a lifetime of collecting, it was hard to not feel that at the same time we were somehow (heartbreakingly) taking apart his identity. It was like seeing the years flick past in fast forward.
One night, as some friends and I walked out of our book club meeting, I said, “Lately I’ve been feeling very wistful. Childhood is speeding by so fast. It’s such a cliche, but it’s true.”
“I know exactly what you mean,” one friend answered. “Whenever I get annoyed by the mess stuck to our refrigerator door, or about having to keep a stroller in the hallway of my apartment, I remind myself that these are the good old days.”
Yes. These are the good old days. I’m living them now. All the chaos, juggling, multi-tasking, noise and rushing that comes with a young family should be savoured – because these very moments are full of life. And if anyone knows how quickly the fullness of life can pass, it’s Poppa – a man and his shed.