And memories of dad. Definitely.
There was an unspoken rule at our house: Mom ruled inside the house and Dad could do what he wanted in his garden and in his garage. After he died, the garage got dusty and the garden withered to nothing. In my little way, I'm trying to keep him alive by bringing his garden back to life and making the garage usable again.
It's been an emotional rollercoaster.... but it's good.
Anyway, back to the garage escapade. I had no idea what I was doing but after a bit of googling, I just kinda got to it. I worked really hard on scraping off the old paint and washing it with sugar soap. When I was at the paint shop, I tried to not look like a lost lamb and didnt ask for help. So I picked up something that had a red door on it... expecting it to be red paint. Well, when I opened the paint, it was actually white. Urgh.
I was getting upset with myself at how stupid I was but.... then I figured I must really be channelling my dad because he would've done the same thing. He didnt really plan things out carefully. He just kinda got an idea in his head and made the best of the situation.
So, while I carried on painting the previously very red door a very glossy white... I smiled. To me, it felt like I was wiping a slate clean... making a new beginning.... bringing in light to a dark place. I could go on.. but the point is it turned out ok. Even with all the mistakes along the way, it turned out ok.
It felt weird painting over his work. I was thinking about him doing exactly what I was doing at the time.
In a strange way, I felt close to him. Maybe I really was channelling him in some way...
I guess it feels strange because I'd never felt those things before.
Maybe.... maybe... I could still get to know him.
All I know is... I have a white wall.
And it will turn out ok.