July 9, 2009
When I was little, I used to help my Dad paint barns. Yep, the great big red ones...way up there. He would only let me climb so high though.
I would always be so afraid watching him go further and further up, then look down at me and holler "Catch me if I fall!"
I realize now that he was kidding, but as a kid, it sounded like he was serious. It always scared me to death!
It always made him laugh!
After Dad died, my sister and I went through some of his belongings to help clear the outbuildings so they could be taken down. I took very little, only coming home with a bench vise, (lots of hours working in the garage with him too) an army shirt, and a wooden ladder that we used to paint those barns. I already had all that I needed in memories of him.
I decided the ladder was far to decrepit to be used for climbing anymore, so I cut it down and placed it in my flower garden as a trellis. It now supports my new Clemetis vine, which is planted just under my kitchen window.
The ladder is so much more than just an old ladder to me. It's a part of my childhood. It's a memory of my Dad and painting barns. I still drive through my hometown pointing out the barns and houses that I helped him paint. It's a connection between my Dad and I. It brings me closer to him, like a Stairway To Heaven.
Thanks for reading and letting me share a very sentimental moment!
3 days ago