The Tool That Cannot Fix

The Tool That Cannot Fix

I’m no stranger to tools. My father is a retired electrician, and so was my grandfather. Somewhere there’s a photo of a five-year-old boy, standing in a living room on brown shag carpet, with his daddy’s toolbelt hanging lopsided around his bony waist. The photo is likely stashed at the bottom of a box in an attic, but the image is fresh in my mind.

I’m a fixer. That doesn’t mean I know how to fix everything, but it does mean I’ll try. Continue reading “The Tool That Cannot Fix”