somethings don't change

We were on a video chat with my father last night. It was brief - but it was such a snippet of my whole childhood.

Cold and dry air.  I could feel it through the screen.  Pops was over at Seth's investment property - helping fix it up.  He scanned the property for us with the camera - ripped up carpet, walls in the midst of painting, large windows, a back yard, wires, doors off hinges being painted.

I asked my Pops if he was there to hold the light.  That was my job when I was young - a boring job that I never took serious enough to learn anything.  Besides, when I tried to learn something, my Pops would get annoyed that my head was blocking the light.

Pops: You gonna put something under that door?

I started giggling.  I couldn't help it.  There were so many things behind that comment.  It was so much of my dad, and Seth, and us - just captured in such a small exchange.

I could see Seth's gloved hands drilling the hinges of the door.  There's the wealth of my family - tools, equipment, and basic skills.

Pops: I'm going to put something under that door.