I spent Monday attempting to build my own frames for my art. I could not get them square. Neither the tools nor the technique was working. "Wasted time!"
My Dad moseyed around me from time to time throughout the day (I was at his house using his workshop, my tools). He would question my process here and there--I knew what I was doing!
In the end that day I did not have the right tools (or process) to create the frames. Lefty taught me the time was not wasted--I learned my time was best spent creating the art and letting frame makers create the frames . . !#@!?*#! . . ok.
I got a phone call Wednesday (two days ago). My dad. He quietly and methodically created a frame--that was cornered perfectly.
I have not always enjoyed a spiritual relationship (simply put, a closeness) with my father--That is changing. On Monday after I left my parents house, he was taken to the hospital. While I was there Monday, shortly before I left, he complained of a sharp pain behind his eye--my Dad NEVER complains. I didn't know until later that evening that he was taken to the Emergency Room and then admitted to the hospital. He was given pain medication and was unconcious at that time--the thought was a possible aneurism. As it turns out he is ok--they were unable to diagnose what had happened--a cause.
I get another shot at fishing--with my Dad. I always feel sorrow when I talk or write about my Dad because so many friends have lost the opportunity or never even had it to grow with a Dad. Maybe a bit of that is guilt for not investing and carrying the attitudes I always have.
I look at all I have today because of Monday's "wasted time."