As Kyle rounds the corner of his parents’ house, he sees his dad standing atop a ladder, hanging the pipe chimes they made back when he was, what, ten? He smiles, then, dancing between his mom’s potted plants, continues across the deck, grabbing hold of the ladder to help steady it.
“Well, look what the cat dragged in. Thought you and Maggie were taking the kids out to pizza tonight.”
“Maggs had to work late, and the boys are doing a sleepover at their bud’s house.”
Stepping off the ladder, he chuckles. “So having been abandoned by everyone, you had to settle for your old man’s company?”
Kyle takes in a long breath. “Actually, I need some advice.”
“Shoot.”
“You remember my teens, and maybe my early twenties...”
His dad’s eyebrows raise. “How could I forget?”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. I guess I wasn’t exactly the best son. Or even a good person.”
His father puts a hand on Kyle’s shoulder. “We all make bad choices now and again. I know I sure did. You turned it around, that’s all that matters.”
“But, for some reason lately it’s all I think about. I know I’m a good dad and husband—“
“And son...”
“Thanks. But I just die when those days steal my thoughts.”
His father nods. “Follow me.”
They cross the deck dropping down to the side entrance of his dad’s massive workshop. As the door is opened, and the lights thrown on, Kyle is taken aback. He’d forgotten how big the shop really was. Standing in the doorway, he can’t help but stare. Tools of every imaginable kind line the walls, while woodworking and metal-shaping machinery fill the floor. There’s an array of winches and lifts for working on cars taking up the middle, and a paint booth to the back. He remembers painting his first car - a Datsun clunker that barely ran. Candy apple red. Though his father said nothing at the time, his face clearly spoke for him.
“Money down the drain.”
They stop at a workbench to the front, a tall shelf just behind filled with the toys and projects they used to make together so long ago. That is, until he became a teen...
His dad motions Kyle closer, then points out into the shop. “Okay, got pretty much every tool known to mankind here, tell me which one you need.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Gotta be something in here that we can use to wrench out those bad memories.”
“Well, no...”
“Right answer. The past is past. Not one thing here, or anywhere else on this good Earth, can change a single minute long gone. It’s all dust in the wind.”
“Kansas.”
“Yup.” Smiling, he pokes Kyle’s forehead, then his chest. “Look here, my wayward son, if you fill your head and heart with yesterdays, you’ll never have a stitch of room for today. Or for that lovely wife and those great boys. Let yesterday go. We kinda like having you around today.”
“Well, look what the cat dragged in. Thought you and Maggie were taking the kids out to pizza tonight.”
“Maggs had to work late, and the boys are doing a sleepover at their bud’s house.”
Stepping off the ladder, he chuckles. “So having been abandoned by everyone, you had to settle for your old man’s company?”
Kyle takes in a long breath. “Actually, I need some advice.”
“Shoot.”
“You remember my teens, and maybe my early twenties...”
His dad’s eyebrows raise. “How could I forget?”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. I guess I wasn’t exactly the best son. Or even a good person.”
His father puts a hand on Kyle’s shoulder. “We all make bad choices now and again. I know I sure did. You turned it around, that’s all that matters.”
“But, for some reason lately it’s all I think about. I know I’m a good dad and husband—“
“And son...”
“Thanks. But I just die when those days steal my thoughts.”
His father nods. “Follow me.”
They cross the deck dropping down to the side entrance of his dad’s massive workshop. As the door is opened, and the lights thrown on, Kyle is taken aback. He’d forgotten how big the shop really was. Standing in the doorway, he can’t help but stare. Tools of every imaginable kind line the walls, while woodworking and metal-shaping machinery fill the floor. There’s an array of winches and lifts for working on cars taking up the middle, and a paint booth to the back. He remembers painting his first car - a Datsun clunker that barely ran. Candy apple red. Though his father said nothing at the time, his face clearly spoke for him.
“Money down the drain.”
They stop at a workbench to the front, a tall shelf just behind filled with the toys and projects they used to make together so long ago. That is, until he became a teen...
His dad motions Kyle closer, then points out into the shop. “Okay, got pretty much every tool known to mankind here, tell me which one you need.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Gotta be something in here that we can use to wrench out those bad memories.”
“Well, no...”
“Right answer. The past is past. Not one thing here, or anywhere else on this good Earth, can change a single minute long gone. It’s all dust in the wind.”
“Kansas.”
“Yup.” Smiling, he pokes Kyle’s forehead, then his chest. “Look here, my wayward son, if you fill your head and heart with yesterdays, you’ll never have a stitch of room for today. Or for that lovely wife and those great boys. Let yesterday go. We kinda like having you around today.”
