Today, I had to run out to a CNC wood shop that mostly cuts cabinet parts with its big expensive CNC machines. I've been doing this for awhile now. They cut some of the base pieces for me that way I don't have to run everything through my tablesaw. Anyhow, I had to take Grace with me and as we walked into the big warehouse of a building with all the machines going and all the guys waving hello, I had this sudden flashback.
I was elementary school age walking into my dad's weight room at the high school. He's been a football coach for many, many years and I couldn't be more proud of him. I have such fond memories of being in his weight room/locker room/coaching office, on occasion being on the field during practice, drawing pictures with chalk on his chalkboard in the athletic office during basketball games, and walking the field with him on Parent's Night. I could go on for days with all the little snapshots in my head.
I wonder if Grace will remember trips to the CNC shop like I remember trips to the football field during two-a-days? The smell of the sawdust in the air, the sound of the machines, the nice men helping me load wood into our minivan. But most of all, I wonder if later on down the road, she'll realize like I did, that those small moments shaped me more than my Dad or anyone could've possibly known. I hope she always feels like she belongs in both worlds. I just hope that she stays out of guys locker rooms until she's 35. Ok, maybe 30.
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