My father was a man of many tools. His workshop was a cluttered mess, but he mostly knew where everything was. He loved to fix things, and he always had the right tool for the job. If he didn't have the right tool and couldn't afford to buy it, he would manufacture a substitute. Many times he'd only need a tool once, so it made more sense to make one than buy one.
As I continue to sort and clean his shop, I came across an old Leatherman multi-tool. The case is dusty and worn, but the tool itself is in perfect condition. I remembered seeing him use it many times over the years. I took the Leatherman out of the nylon case and held it in my hand. It was heavy and solid, and it felt good in my palm. I could feel the history of the tool in my hands.
I thought about all the times my father had used the Leatherman. He had used it to fix things around the house, to work on his car, and to help his neighbors. It was a tool that he had relied on for many years. I became obsessive over the years wanting, needing, the latest Leatherman. The advancement of their usability and design over the years is beautiful and functional.
Finding my dad's old Leatherman I realized, perhaps why for the first time, why I love the device so much. No matter where I was, or where my dad was, having a Leatherman strapped onto my belt—it connected me with my dad.
Thanks for guiding me to the tool during clean up, dad.