My Take
DiVoran Lites
The other day Bill and I were in the kitchen cooking breakfast, and he told me about a dream he had. He was working with my dad, something he did whenever the folks came from California for a visit or we went there. Dad loved to putter and fix things. Bill wanted to hang out with him, so they did projects that mother and I came up with for them.
Bill is an engineer; Dad was a man of many trades, race jockey, welder, gas company manager, large equipment fixer in a tomato factory, meat cutter, restaurant owner, pilot, and, most important, fisherman. Ah well, you get the picture; he could do many things.
Bill can do anything, too, or so it seems to me. He was mostly a mechanical engineer with the Space program, specializing in ordnance.
So anyhow, the dream was about Bill and Dad working together. In the dream, Bill was frustrated as he always was when he worked alongside Dad. Dad put his tools down just any old where and couldn’t’ find them the next time he needed them. He drilled big holes with gusto when Bill thought smaller, more sedate holes would have given a closer tolerance and worked better. Dad’s been home in heaven a while now, and we laughed at the silly dream until I started to cry. I hardly ever cry so it felt good.
I finally figured out why I was crying. I could see Dad and Bill in the driveway working on something. I could have walked out there, joined them, and got a lot of joy seeing the two of them together and being amused by the differences in work styles. If it were now, I wouldn’t need to try to make one like the other or change them. Now that I’m older, can see how unique each person is. I can accept them and enjoy the differences. It makes life a lot more fun and less stressful, too.
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