at some point my father-in-law noticed that the foot pedal on our kitchen trash can was broken. i mentioned to him that we were going to throw it out before the move, but that i have a thing about spending money on trash cans. it feels so wasteful and so we were going to use it in its broken state until the move. tom took this on as a challenge. in an effort to save me some bucks (trash cans are pricey!), he took on the task of repairing the foot pedal. and he decided to invite e in on the repair action.
the two of them sat there in our family room investigating the root of the problem. when it became clear that the break was in a plastic mechanism, tom determined that they would have to design something from scratch in order to make the repair. he sat there showing ellie the problem. it was adorable watching these two put their brains on the problem. after a few minutes, tom asked her for her ideas. sweet e, not sure of what the solution should be, told him to wait a minute while she went to get something. after a few minutes of digging in the toy bin, she reappeared with a bucket on her head. she told him it was her "thinking cap".
and so donning her thinking cap, sitting alongside her beloved grandpa, they fixed the foot pedal. using some screws and some balsa wood, they bridged the broken plastic piece and made the broken trash can operable once again.
this moment was special for her. she felt empowered by her grandfather asking for her input and she didn't want to come to the table empty handed. his confidence in her spurred on her own confidence in herself. and together, side by side, they made the repair. it was a beautiful moment to watch. grandpa brought her into a real life problem and then included her in each step of the way. she was part of the research team, she was part of the repair team, and she benefited from the solution.
watching them made me think of my own grandfather. he was the world to me. i can remember him doing exactly the same type of thing --- he'd bring me along as he repaired something in the shed for my grandmother, or he'd take me out to his workshop to see a piece of furniture he was restoring for his antique business and let me help out in some way. they are memories that have stuck with me and make me smile years later as i think of the wonderful man that he was. and it was in those moments in the workshop that that a little girl realized that she was smart, valuable, had an important voice and could be resourceful with what was in front of me.
years later, i moved to atlanta. in an effort to spare you another long winded story, i'll simply say that my roommate and i were in desperate need of certain pieces of furniture. being newly employed and fresh out of college, my change purse was... well, it was totally empty. and i remembered my grandfather. i remembered the skills he had shared with me and the confidence he had placed in my soul. and so i went to work. i made a trip to home depot and built an entertainment center, a headboard, a coffee table and some shelves. they weren't fancy, but they fit the needs of our apartment. and it was better than a tv on the floor.
as i watched e and her grandfather, i couldn't help but remember that. while they both might have believed that they were simply fixing a trashcan, i know that it was much more. and with excitement, i can't wait to see how this fleshes out in little e's life. i can't wait to see how being empowered by a man she cherishes will impact her in the years to come. maybe she'll make a coffee table one day, or maybe she'll have a greater confidence in her intellectual value, but whatever it is i am certain that she'll think back to tinkering with her grandfather and smile knowing that he was part of her process.
relationships are like that. the investment that we make today may seem little or insignificant, but i'm finding that usually somewhere down the road, those investments pay out dividends that we could never have imagined. those investments in people mold lives and transform us.
so here's to e--- may you always wear your "thinking cap".
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