There is No Longer a Straight Line

The other day I was telling my best friend a story and we had to stop because more clarification was needed before I could proceed.

That's when I had the realization that nothing in my life is just a straight line.  Like the dinner for six...teen post, it's never just one thing.  Here's an example:

There was a break-in down the road.  Kevin decided that we needed to put a deadbolt on our shop door.  This is way, super long overdue, I know.

So we bought a new deadbolt and door handle set.  Kevin is not a carpenter, by his own description.  He can do stuff but he struggles a little bit.  Ask him to fix most anything mechanical and he's all over it.  Carpentry is not his thing.

His dad, however, is a carpenter.  Well, WAS a carpenter.  He and Kevin built our huge deck, our back stairs, all the fencing, and our shop.

But those days have passed and we keep forgetting that.  Because the first part of this story is the one about how his dad gave himself a stroke by taking the wrong medicine and nearly killing himself.

Kevin's dad came over to start the project while I was working in the garden.  I could kind of hear the conversation so I paused when I heard tone from Kevin.  "Dad. There is a template.  Just wait and I will help." During this, Kevin's phone rang and he answered.  One of his guys from work was in the neighborhood and wanted to come see the racecar.  Not great timing but sure.  Fifteen minutes later and they were here.

Kevin's dad continued to work on the door.  I'm certain that Kevin asked him to wait until after his guests left but his dad isn't known to listen.

Two hours later, they leave and Kevin goes back out to the shop.  His dad is still working on the door.  It's a fifteen minute job, usually. It should have required only one hole.

AN HOUR LATER, he returns and his hair is on fire. Figuratively. You know, not like mine actually was.  "You won't believe it..." and he's muttering.

Somehow, someway, I don't even know how, he drilled two holes for the deadbolt and they were uneven.  Like the door might be RUINED uneven.  There should be ONE HOLE.

And of course, he has no idea how that happened.  It just magically, awfully, happened.

So, I told Kevin to just make sure that the door can close and we'll go buy a door in the morning.  Choose your battles.  But this is where we're both very much alike: we have to win.  Back outside he went once the feeling of wanting to strangle his dad passed. Mostly.

And he fixed it.  We didn't have to buy a new door.

This brings me back to the There's No Straight Line realization.  I will begin to tell a story about the family then have to pause, tell a backstory, then continue with the original story.

And just the mere fact that nothing is ever easy anymore.  There is no only one thing. There is no straight line.