wayweird

 It happens all the time. The aroma of pumpkin pie resurrects memories of grandma for some of us. The rapid fire explosions of a string of fire crackers transport some combat veterans back to the horrors of a distant battlefield. Maybe an old song makes you think of a lost love or laughs shared with friends you haven’t even thought of in ages.

I had one of those moments yesterday when I found myself repairing a friend’s broken drawer. Somehow she pulled it out of her dresser and it broke apart. Next thing I knew I was pulling useless staples from the edges of the wreck and fitting the pieces back together.

I’m not a handy person. It amazes me that I ever got that drawer back in operation. But as I worked on my little repair project, memories of my Polish grandfather came unbidden. Thomas Kapelanski could do just about anything with his hands.

He was an accomplished blacksmith back in the day when blacksmiths were the equivalent of CarEx. He could work with wood. When I was a tot he built me a wooden rocking horse - one that would be the envy of any antique collector these days. He could knock out folk tunes on the mandolin, balalaika, and accordion.

I sort of got to missing that old guy as I fixed that drawer. I wish he was still around. I wish I had paid more attention to him while he was here.

But on the other hand, perhaps he was there with me looking over my shoulder and guiding me.

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