There are lady carpenters in Montana.

March 3, 2011

As I sit down to write today, there’s something on my mind.  A big pain in my head, known as a sinus infection.  And sinus infections always remind me of my dad.  When I was little, I remember Dad’s face writhing in agony from massive sinus infections and headaches.  He’s even admitted he sometimes wanted to perform a little surgery with his drill to relieve some of the pressure! Yikes!  I never had these sinus infections until last year, my first year of teaching.  They are horrible!  Well I don’t plan on writing today only about my poor pathetic sinuses.  I did inherit my rotten sinuses from my dad, yes, but what else did I inherit or learn from him? 

I was blessed in this life with a fabulous set of parents.  I have no complaints about either of them.  My mom is one of my best friends, but I know I would definitely be a different person had my dad not have been a contributor, too.  I was fortunate enough to get to work for my dad as I was growing up.  First, when he was building our house (I might add that this was from the ground up, while also working a full time job. Superman? Possibly.) he let my sisters and I help.  My little sister, Ronnie, was only 5 and wasn’t able to do much, but Big Sis, Brianna, and I helped quite a bit.  In that time, he trusted us with hammers, tape measures, drills, nail guns, saws, and any other extremely dangerous tool necessary for a home build.  Dad was, and is, such a careful person, that he always taught us how to use the tools safely.  Then, while we worked, we heard stories, listened to music, and learned about our dad as a person and child, not just “Dad.”  To this day, if I hear The Mamas and the Papas Greatest Hits CD, I go back to sheetrocking and insulating our rooms and bathrooms in the house upstairs.  He showed us his favorites, and you can be sure there was plenty of the Beatles and a little of the Beach Boys played too.

 In 2003, Dad retired from the U.S. Border Patrol at the ripe ol’ age of 50.  His intention was not to retire, but to change careers.  He began his own construction business.  Brianna and I were delighted: Instant summer jobs!  Almost every summer since, I’ve worked for Dad for various lengths of time, but regardless, I’ve learned SO much about him and construction.  Recently, I noticed our school’s year-old windows had daylight coming in the sides.  I knew, from working with Dad, that the caulk had shrunk and needed to be cut out and replaced.  It only took the engineer at the school 2-3 months to get a window guy to the school to confirm that Mrs. Knowles, that crazy Kindergarten teacher, was right! When we bought a new construction house last year, we didn’t grimace at the unfinished and unfenced yard, lack of garage, or unfinished basement, because we knew Dad would be able to help.  He spent his weekends for many months working at our house instead of resting or relaxing. (This is the guy that “retired”  7 ½ years ago!) 

But, because of his knowledge and all I’ve learned from him, I can handle some of the situations that arise from his expert teaching.  It’s a great skill to have!  We always joke about a statement made by an elderly man from our hometown we consider family.  While helping dad with an addition on their modular home (Dad and I donated time to finish this for them; another quality learned from Dad, generosity) Cliff came out to “inspect.”  While watching me work, and being at least a little impressed, I’d assume, he said, “You know there’s lady carpenters in Wisconsin, too.”  When he left, Dad and I shared a good chuckle over that one.  But thanks to Dad, there are lady carpenters in Montana as well!

Dad has taught me another important thing.  Mom’s family is full of strong women.  Strong women, at least in our case, tend to be slightly “sassy.”  Thankfully, I’m one of those strong women in Mom’s family, but I have that other personality trait too.  Dad, who was surrounded by 4 women in our house, often chose to be quiet and stay out of it!  However, I’m thinking he did some observing in that time.  He’s reminded me that not everyone is as strong as my mother and sisters, including my husband.  Sassy Brooke needs to tone it down because the greatest guys in my life, though big and tough on the outside, are soft, gentle, and kind on the inside.  Though giving his daughters “away” to husbands couldn’t have been easy, he’s still molding and shaping who I am, even as a wife to my own husband.

And although it feels like I’m only getting started on Dad, my required time is drawing to a close.  Time to get dinner fixed, finish other homework, and take my next dose of antibiotic for that dang sinus infection I’ve got.  Thanks, Dad.  Really, though. Thanks.