Talk about memories......
Grandad was in his 90's, had already had a heart attack and a stroke, and finally started getting weaker and weaker. He had not mowed his lawn in some time, letting my father take care of it. His detached double garage,which also was his shop, had been sitting pretty much dormant for quite a while. When his hands wouldn't do the quality of work he insisted on, he stopped doing the intricate work. When his strength faded, and he couldn't physically stand for more than a few moments, he stopped working all together. Even after that, he lived a couple more years sitting at home.
Getting ready to start working on those trunks I talked about, I knew I needed some parts that were missing. Rarely do we find trunks that have all the hardware, mostly missing small pieces due to wear or just damage. While visiting with Granmom, I mentioned the trunks and the missing parts. She told me to go look in the shop, and reminded me how Grandad had kept parts and pieces over the years.
Walking into the garage/shop was...intense. I found parts. But more than that I looked around.
Our senses are connected to our memories. The smell inside the shop brought back feelings, and memories. It smelled of old wood, oil soaked tool chests, dust. I closed my eyes and I was back many years ago. The more I looked around, the more feelings came rushing back. I saw that tools were left in some cases just where Grandad had put them down.
I found trunk parts. I found more trunk parts. I found pieces, tools, and parts for trunks that I had forgotten he had. I had forgotten how years of work could accumulate into such a large store of 'stuff'.
I found a piece I thought I needed, and went back inside. After talking a while, Granmom said that since I was the only one who had ever really shown an interest in trunks and restoring them, I should load up and take home all the trunk parts pieces and tools.
I still need to go and load up everything. But just thinking about it, it's going to be like loading up a part of my Grandad's history and taking it with me.
Quite a responsibility, and honor.