It’s strange how inanimate objects create such powerful feelings.
Since my father’s passing in 2012, bit by bit, we’ve cleaned his shop, keeping some items, removing others over the years. With the exception of a few tools on an old workbench his beloved haven is now mostly storage.
A few days ago I came upon this old oil funnel. It’s the funnel we used for changing oil in tractors, even in the car I owned in high school. We always changed the oil together, and it was one of the few moments when he gave me real instruction on how to execute a routine chore.
An old oily, metal funnel. It brings so many memories, evokes s many feelings.
It hangs on a nail in my own shop now, just as it always has in dad’s.