Recently my father passed away and left my grandfather’s hand plane for me, knowing that it would be put to good use.
After I got home from the funeral, I remembered that my mother also gave me a box of tools from her father who loved to refinish furniture. Once I found some time, I decided to go through those tools and found another hand plane.
This plane was different, and, conveniently, complimentary to the other plane. My maternal grandfather’s plane is for more gross planing, while my paternal grandfather’s plane was designed for more precise planing. The point is, I don’t have to feel guilty for choosing one over the other because they both have their unique places; kind of like both grandfathers.
If my father hadn’t died, I don’t think that the planes would be near as important to me.
Now, at least one of them, is as close as I’ll ever get to my father again. So, with a newfound fondness for these tools and a mindfulness of their past, I’m going to restore them as a tribute to these great men. I hope that one day, my son will hold them with the tenderness that I now do.
