Monday, April 29, 2013

Antique Red Toolbox..................by Diane Ogden


So this is an antique small red toolbox.  And it is mine.  Great love and thoughtfulness was put into this little red metal box. 
You see I have lived alone for fourteen years.  I owned my own home, had several children and foster children living with me.  I did everything a man would have to do. Well most everything.   I was always borrowing a tool of some sort from my Dad,  Joe Junbluth.  Many children now and in past decades never had a Dad. My own Father's Father wasn't around much.  Many slither away like the standard snake in the grass after conception.   Back to my point.... 
 
One day my Dad, an old farmer, brought me that little read toolbox he took the time to fill just for me.  He couldn't give me a trust fund, or a new car, or a large red shiny tool chest with ten drawers.  But he gave me what he could.  His time.  He would run errands for me when I had no time to do them.  He would go to the kids school plays when no other family member did.  He would say please and thank you when he was never raised to do so.  He had an eighth grade education but studied on his own to learn to read and write better. He used to ask me how to spell things.  And he always put an e at the end of words.  Back to my point.  Or is this my point?  I guess as we grow, yes GROW (evolve)....we remember the small important things.  The little antique red tool box he put together especially for me twenty years ago plus.  I still have it you know?  It contains screwdrivers, pliers, crescent wrench, speckling putty knife, speckling compound, screws, nails, rubber hammer, hard hammer, those funny screwers, oh yeah, Allen wrenches!  Electrical tape, wire, tape measure, that balance wall thingy, and on and on.  Nothing fancy. The old down to earth tool box.  In his heart he wanted me to have a good man to take care of me when he was gone.  But that didn't happen in his lifetime, so he did what he could to help me have what I needed.  A little red toolbox filled with love. And all the errands he had time for.  He didn't know how to hug so well. He didn't know how to say I Love You so well. But he did it his way. You know, Like Frank. And today I remembered one of the best ways he showed it.  That beat up red tool box from his workshop.
  He must be hangin close cause I have been very spiritual the past couple days.
I'll try to find something more funny and less serious tomorrow.....
Until then.....be safe, be happy, be well, and get rich because its easier is all.  Even if I was rich I wouldn't give up the Tool Box my Dad Joe made just for me, so my life could be a lil bit easier.
 
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