It's that time again. Time to paint the exterior of our house.
Who is the first person I consult, to find out what needs to happen first, then second, and so on?
My Dad is a carpenter genius.
He can fix anything!
I remember when I came to this conclusion.
I was an elementary girl, a constant companion alongside my Dad in his wood shop. In that shop, he created from wood, sometimes the wood from trees near our home. He made dining room chairs, grandfather clocks, hutches, and my toy box!
Our kitchen--the one in which I prepare meals for my family--was crafted in his mind and made with his hands.
He is my Dad, but he is also a mentor. He is a mentor for me and for my children. We learn from his genius.
He has helped us with many home projects--roofing, kitchen and bathroom demo and design, home add-ons.
But this time was different.
I am beginning to realize my time, our time with my Dad--the time from which I can soak in all he has to share--might be limited.
I want to soak in all the wisdom I can, and I want my children to have the same opportunity.
So, last week began our house painting project. It was a PROJECT!
Simple paint and brushes, but a TON of work and perseverance.
Pressure washing to finish, prep to fill cracks, trim work to be painted, shutters to be covered, and brushes to clean. But we did it as a family--grandpa, parents, and children! Together.
Each person quickly found they were better at one job than another. And, for some there were skills to learn. Some learned to trim paint, others practiced rolling. Some found joy cleaning brushes--I mean, playing in water! I realized my children were learning alongside my Dad--a legacy--much like when I learned by his side in the wood shop, alongside him when we added-on to our house. I want my children to learn all they can from him.
Indeed, every child--toddler to adult--learned something this week. Some heard and then imitated my Dad's positive attitude. Others learned how to hang a roller on the side of a paint can. Another observed how Pop angled the brush to paint the mortar joints.
It was a PROJECT with lots of real learning, from a man who is leaving a legacy.
As I painted, I wondered.
What legacy I will leave with my children.
Will it be the books we read together? Will it be the cheesecakes we baked together? Will it be my positive comments and words of encouragement or the "be a blessing" I spoke as they left the house? Will it be something I couldn't have fathomed, something which has yet to take place?
I don't know what legacy I will leave with my children. But I do know one thing. The time, effort, sacrifice--the intentionality of my days--will matter. I know so. I learned that from my Dad (and my mom, to be honest)!