My grandpa was an amazing wood worker. He was creative and worked really well with his hands. Growing up he always made things from toy chests to helping fix my old coffee table.
He used to have this shop a hop skip and jump away from the house where him and my grandma retired. It was such a fun place to go escape to – the tools, the scrap wood, chalk board. There was this oversized chalk board that he would write his measurements on whilst working on a project. One day I decided to leave him a note on his chalk board – I was in fourth grade and writing on chalk boards was the bee’s knees.
A year ago this past December my grandpa passed away after a long hard fought battle with melanoma.
Over the holidays my grandma gave my cousins and I things of my grandpa’s that held meaning. When my aunt asked me to come with her outside I had no idea what was waiting for me.
Then she showed me the chalk board.
With the message untouched.
The chalk board (turns out its actually a solid piece of slate) had been moved from his old shop to his new shop and never got erased.
Talk about something that held/holds meaning. I couldn’t have been given anything more perfect.
Over the past weekend my dad hung it up for me in the craft room. I love that I now have a place for it in a room that I am able to create in just like he did in his shop.