I spent countless happy hours playing in the Aladdin’s Cave that was Dad’s Garage. The raw brick walls were lined with an incredible array of shelves and drawers, all meticulously labelled, to store ‘blokey stuff.’ He loved woodwork, and built a huge bench with every conceivable tool and gadget. My brother and I were compelled to put our fingers into the vise to test our pain threshold. Even more intriguing were Dad‘s rifles, on a not-so-high shelf next to the bench. He did a better job of hiding his “Man” magazines though. Almost.
The Garage was home to Dad’s succession of cars, his favourite being a Karmann Ghia. One day, when I was four, I decided to hop in and ‘drive’ it. I tried to force the column shift into second gear, but since I had no idea about using the clutch, the stick snapped. It took a good wad of glue, a roll of masking tape, and a smack on my bum to brace the stick until it could be repaired.
But it wasn’t just the familiar hulk of a vehicle I missed in the Garage when Dad left us. Lots of interesting stuff went with him. Tools disappeared from the shadow board, save the odd wrench and spanner. Left behind were old jam jars full of screws, nuts, bolts and washers, which I enjoyed sorting. I used colored chalks to draw the outline of where his car had been.
In the gloom of the Garage, without a car or a Dad – just me putting my bike away each day – rats and mice began throwing parties in the dark corners and the cellar. The magic was abating.
To this day, I miss the smell of sawdust. On the rare occasion I visit a hardware store, I’m irresistibly drawn to the fresh timber area, where I take in lungfuls of sawdust (hopefully just the scent). For years after Dad left, I’d sweep and sweep the shed with a stiff broom, whipping up a musty cloud in which I savoured the very last remnants of his woodwork.
"I used colored chalks to draw the outline of where his car had been."
ReplyDeleteThis line kills me. Just kills me. Have you ever seen a dead man cry?
Marianne, this is so evocative and touching. I've read it again and again - you revived two wonderful memories for me, and I thank you.
ReplyDeleteMy Dad, like yours loved woodwork and some of my first memories of him was watching him making or fixing something and I loved the wood curls when he planed a door. I used them as ringlets and would stick them on my dollies heads.
The next memory was of a family friend, Connie. Connie's daughter died of SIDS (we were born a few weeks apart) and Connie showered all the love of her daughter upon me. Connie had the same Karmann Ghia and she'd pick me up from school and we'd whizz around. When Connie was 60, there was an article in our local newspaper - Wentworth Courier - with a photo of her and her Karmann Ghia. Connie was presented with an award for 40 years of driving without one infringement. She used to take me to lace making - I think she was trying to make a Laydee of me!
I so look forward to reading your blog.
I agree with what Kitty says. My dad used to build everything himself, repair anything that needed repairing, planted vegetables for a family of six in the garden and lots and lots of fruit trees, berry shrubs and flowers. He loved to tinker, what do I say, he's 83, can hardly walk and still loves it. Never a quiet moment for him.
ReplyDeleteI think our fathers resemble each other, it's the last generation of men who could do almost anything.
I just read the most recent post you made on FB, which lead me to your blog. The label woodwork, caught my eye. What a memory grabbing, heartfelt, heart wrenching, and joyous read. Took me back to my grandfather's work shed, the smell of sawdust (love it), and I will never walk past a circular saw without thinking of an accident that took two of my dad's fingers. But, also as a reminder of the kindness of friends who gave of themselves to help during the recovery.
ReplyDeleteWhile reading it, I also felt sincerely for your child's heart. I appreciate you transparency. And love that car!
Thank you Rebecca for those kind words ... and I'm so glad it resonated for you. If we ever catch up in real life, we'll snort sawdust for kicks ;-)
DeleteMM - "The last generation of men who could do almost anything" - hear hear. Maybe not the hi-tech stuff of today, but working with their hands, creating a home.
ReplyDeleteKitty - very fond memories of the curls from planing! Dad had a circular saw too, so the garage floor would get planing curls and sawdust everywhere, and how I loved to be in charge of sweeping it :-)
Oron, thank you too for your kind, sensitive comment. Bless.