This fall, my sister and her adult sons were helping our dad clean out his garage and workshop. As things headed toward the discard pile, my sister kept rescuing certain items. We’d grown up seeing them in Dad’s workshop, so the fact that they had been there for as long as we could remember made them seem important.
Dad eventually came out, looked around and wanted to know why they’d left all that junk behind. Apparently, we had confused longevity with sentiment. Some of those things hadn’t survived decades because Dad treasured them. They had survived because Dad hadn’t Continue Reading →
