My Grandfather was a pretty amazing man. If he were still alive, it would have been his 90th birthday yesterday.
One of the things I loved about him was how capable he was. He could do anything. He was the best accountant, the funniest man, survived two heart attacks and ran marathons. He grew up during the Depression, and knew how to take care of himself, his family, and his stuff. When something broke, he fixed it. If he had a hammer with a handle that wasn’t long enough, he took apart two hammers and built a better one. I never saw him hand any construction projects or repairs off to anyone else. He just did it. And it always worked, even if it was something he’d never even tried to do before. Car won’t start? Solved! Roof holes? Patched! Household accounts? Balanced! Wooden toy for grandchild? CARVED.
I never knew what to get him for Christmas, because he was so good at making what he had work. He didn’t need new tools because he freaking MADE anything he didn’t already have. Finally, one year, I decided to give him something he definitely didn’t have.
I totally forgot about it until I was at Disneyland the other day, his 90th birthday, and looking at Wreck-It Ralph stuff. Then I remembered.
It was a golden hammer.
My Grandpa was Fix-It Felix.