My dad's workshop was a vault of treasures for my mind when I was a child, there I could find the best materials to work with, woods of different colors, textures and aromas, it was a small zing roof shed in the back of the old house of my dad, he only used it for a workshop and lived with us on the next street, around the corner, that's why I took advantage of my afternoons off from school to be in the workshop, borrow his tools and start creating toys, ornaments or anything else I could think of to do with the wood.
My dad was always very focused on his work, however from time to time he gave me his help if he saw that the work I was doing was difficult, if he saw that I was sawing badly he would tell me how to do it, if he saw me use the wrong tool he was looking for the right one for what I was doing, there were tools that he couldn't use because he told me no with that, but I always managed, when I got tired or frustrated because my project didn't go well I told my father to open the door for me to go home, as it is so close there was no problem.
I always returned to my dad's workshop the next day, after lunch I used to go and shout from the gate "Papiiiiiiii" and he left his job and went out to open the door of his workshop, he worked until Sundays so on weekends I could also go early, during school vacations I went almost daily, but I soon grew up and realized that people made fun of me when I called my dad from the gate, so I don't know when it happened, but when I called him through the fence now I called him by his name the insurance was surprised the first time but he never told me not to call him that, anyway when I referred to him I kept saying "daddy"
I have always had the idea that my childhood passed very quickly and that I did not enjoy it enough, I entered secondary school when I was only 10 years old and in the year before that I continued to enjoy the afternoons of handicrafts in my father's workshop, I did more elaborate things and I was proud of knowing how to sand and saw wood well, I never imagined that after entering the seventh grade I would never play in my father's workshop again.
Sometimes when I was in my dad's workshop and we went home together, he used to have a competition with me and start running to see who could get home faster, my dad was an elderly man and I started to notice every day that I could run much faster, one day when I was in his workshop it started to rain a lot, the rain lasted a long time and I began to feel worried, I wanted to go home and not be there in the workshop, the rain ended and my dad told me that we were going back home, he opened the door and I started to walk, I hadn't taken many steps when my dad surprised me from behind and carried me in his arms like a princess, he told me he was doing it so that I I didn't get my feet wet, on the corner there were some men of those usual bums and I felt ashamed that they saw that I was so big and tall that my dad was carrying me, I tried hard to cover my butt because I was wearing shorts as a child and when my father carried me I felt Because those men could see my private parts, I came home very embarrassed.
I don't know if I was 9 years old or if I had already turned 10, but that was the last time my dad held me, I realized that I had grown up, that I distrusted the look of the men on the street, that my dad almost no longer I could handle my weight even though I was thin and above all I realized that I was no longer a girl that I would start to be a teenager and that the following school year my life would be very different and I would no longer be able to play, now I look back and remember that day and the rain happens but in my eyes, I treasure those experiences that I had with my late father and I realize that until now I have never stopped growing thanks to his great teachings, a hard-working and honest man, I also work until Sundays like him and I feel that his love guides my hands every time I make a craft, whenever it rains I remember his arms carrying me and I like to listen to the sound of the rain from the zinc roofs from anywhere because they sound like my dad's workshop.
Esta es mi entrada para: Reto escritura creativa - Inspiración para el crecimiento personal Invito a participar a @Yetsimar
This is my entry for: Creative Writing Challenge - Inspiration for Personal Growth. I invite @Yetsimar to participate
Espero les haya gustado. Les invito a leer mis próximas publicaciones y siempre estaré dispuesta a responder sus preguntas y comentarios, también pueden seguirme y contactarme en cualquiera de mis redes sociales. ¡Muchas gracias!
I hope you liked it. I invite you to read my next publications and I will always be willing to answer your questions and comments, you can also follow me and contact me on any of my social networks. Thank you!