...or as I love to call him, my Dad.
The man that I get all my craftiness from for sure.
It was nothing he ever pushed on me, it was always something I just saw him doing.
My first memories of him making things, were his stained glass workings.
Amazed by the array of colors, I always wanted to be out in the garage when he was creating things.
After slicing my thumb on a piece of glass, I lost interest and went back to my Barbie's.
And then there were lots of memories of him making gold and silver pieces.
I loved playing around with the ring sizer the most.
As I got older, he filled me in on birthstones and gems in general.
At that point the teenage years had set in and boys reigned higher on the priority list.
But now that I am older, I am picking his brain for all the little details.
Watching closely as he works.
Turning to him for helpful hints and even using some of his old tools.
Here he had just finished an
itty bitty ring for Olivia.
The picture brings tears to my eyes, because it is full circle.
What he does for her, he used to do for me.
And what I spend my time making, she sees.
She will remember.
This all makes me very happy.
I love you Dad.