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Father’s Day is our chance to thank our dads for all they’ve taught us. My dad taught me to ride a bike when I was 5. He showed me how to change my own oil when I turned 16. He taught me to shoot a layup around age 8. I watched him shoot a million shots, and then he coached me on which knee should come up, where I should be looking, the exact right moment to shoot.
Now that I’m 28, I thought we were pretty much relegated to life lessons — you know, investments, career direction and marriage advice. I thought my dad’s days of teaching me physical skills were long gone.
When my husband and I bought a 113-year-old house, I got to take a step back and learn by watching my dad again. All the stuff he’s taught me this year while working on the house deserves a parade instead of a Hallmark card.
Before we started on the house, we talked through the whole project in his kitchen. Dad explained the order of the jobs and which ones he did himself. He told us how he hung cabinets and tiled the backsplash. The three of us decided what could be done and what should be hired out. In dad’s fashion, we pretty much did everything, except removing a wall, refinishing 100-year-old hardwoods and plumbing.
My dad’s always been a handy guy; he’s fixed up our house and helped friends and relatives, too. He loves bringing old lawn mowers back to life and tinkering with anything and everything. Dad never sold anything or charged anyone. His desk job for the government paid the bills, so fixing stuff wasn’t about a side hustle or a second income. The guy just likes to solve problems and make things work. I think it’s part of his wiring. Where lots of people would fiddle with something and then call a repairman or buy a new item, my dad will take it apart, watch a YouTube video and work his magic.
Fixing and tinkering has always been his thing, but this project gave him the opportunity to share it with me. I learned about new (to me) tools every single weekend. When I held something wrong or used too many hits with the hammer, my dad stopped me to tell me I’m an embarrassment and then showed me how it’s done. Just like he did on the basketball court.
Our construction involved skills that my dad doesn’t use very often and Josh and I had never tried. Where most people would back off and hire it out, dad helped us figure it out. We hung drywall, mudded, laid porcelain tile over a heated floor. Josh and I asked tons of questions, and my dad patiently explained. We laughed every time he said, “Remember we’re not professionals. Those guys could do this in half the time.” Don’t we know.
Besides the techniques and tools, I learned dad’s stories. He told tales of Cabbagehead (family legend) and working construction alongside his dad. I heard about the time his brother Todd tossed a shovel of dirt into fresh concrete and the summer he did maintenance at Mizzou.
In addition to the physical skills I watched and learned, he taught me something much bigger. Dad showed me that stuff can be fixed. It’s worth the time and the trouble to understand the world a little better. No problem is too intimidating. Most screw-ups can eventually be fixed by a professional if things get that bad.
Together, we built a kitchen and a million memories. Thanks, Dad, not just for all the time and talent you’ve put into this house, but for showing me that I can figure it out.
As you get ready to celebrate Father’s Day, I suggest buying a junky house, asking your dad to help you tear the kitchen down to studs and then putting it back together. If that’s not your dad’s speed, find another excuse to lean a new trick from him. It’s amazing what the old guy knows.
Shannon Whitney Heffernan is a native St. Louisian happy to be back in the land of toasted ravs. She’s a social media professional by day and an avid reader by night. She lives in an old South City house with her husband and their long to-do list.
