My Dad's Garage is a Man's Garage

20 March 2011

Countless hours of my youth were spent between these three walls and large wooden door. From my toddler years I would sit on my father's legs while the rest of him was concealed beneath a chassis - repairing a neighbor's car or maintaining one of our own. As I grew older I graduated from an observer to a helper - fetching tools and holding worklamps. Eventually I was old enough to start turning wrenches and greasing joints under his watchful eye. But when I was finally licensed to drive and owning my own vehicle his attention turned from supervision to protection... "Put back my damn tools where you got them!"

Some will look at this and see a mess. But my eyes see volumes of history and hundreds of thousands of miles spent on the road - a great deal of evidence to his blue-collar profession that kept me fed and warm.

Until last summer I had been away from his home for several years, busy building my own life (and buying my own tools). All this time spent overseas had made pulling up into his driveway and sleeping in my childhood bedroom feel a bit foreign. But as soon as he opened the garage door, all of the emotion came flooding in... This was the space I felt the most sentiment for - because my dad's garage is a man's garage.

Chisago City, MN USA


Posted by Memoria on March 21, 2011 10:17 AM:

Beautiful story and nice photos, but what is a man's garage? My ex-girlfriend had a garage filled with similar items, but she's not a man haha. I guess you mean it is a garage made for people who like to work on cars and other "dirty" jobs. :) Anyway, thank you for sharing this story.

Posted by Heather on March 21, 2011 10:42 AM:

awww. touching. I love it when tools and sentimentality come together as one. (Just got a new band saw meself....whirrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!)

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