Today I was doing some work in my work shed, I should elaborate, its my Dads workshop, he originally built it back in the early 80’s to run a small engineering business which he did very successfully for many years until he retired. Originally it was full of metalworking machinery, most of which he sold when he retired. After retiring he bought some woodwork machinery so that he could make stuff as a hobby, he was a very competent model maker having done it professionally for films as a younger man. This shed is now mine since he died and I do all sorts of things in there from woodwork to photography.
I was clearing out some of the rubbish to make room for a product photography table, this meant re arranging some of the machines. I was standing looking at my handy work when my gaze fell on his pillar drill, this had been in the shed since the original days of the engineering. I was suddenly taken down one of those memory trips remembering everything connected to the drill and Dads work in the workshop, me helping him set it up and working for him at weekends the things he had mad for me and my family of the creation of a set of bunk beds for my kids as they needed to be a specific size to fin in the house. everything flooded back and there was a hole in the shed where he no longer stoo, I sat there weeping and crying my eyes out thinking about it. Its making me cry again just writing this
If you have ever lost someone dear to you and it has driven you to tears, you will know what I mean when I say that once you stop crying you hurt physically inside, its an odd hollow pain, it gave me the image of a void, that there was a space that had something missing, and I feel like its going to be the basis for my next assignment.