Skip

Jason and I spent the morning today with Skip, my step-dad. This was no planned event, rather, we were huddled together over the engine of the little car Jason and I are diving, replacing the radiator that cracked yesterday. We are very fortunate that Skip, a literal jack-of-all-trades, was both able and willing to help us with this little project. "Half an hour," he said. Anyone that has worked on an engine knows that "half and hour" rarely means 30 minutes. 3 hours later, our little car was back up and running. Before I can even begin to express how grateful we are to Skip for his help this morning, there are a few things I must mention.
  • Mom and Skip just moved to a new home and are still unpacking. It is coming together, but no where near done.
  • We were in Wenatchee, where it was in the mid-30's. We had red skin, frozen toes, snot running down our faces, and Skip had blood dripping from his knuckle. A result of trying to fit his hand in a place it wasn't intended to fit.
  • Skip's Jeep, which Jason and I have been driving until just a few weeks ago, was also broken. That was supposed to be his morning project.
With all of that, whose car get fixed first? Mine. Skip, very characteristically, set aside his stuff to help me with mine. Standing there, with frozen fat cells all over my body, I was incredibly grateful. After we went inside to thaw out, he would accept no offering in return for his work. When Lily asked him how much we should pay him he said, "Lots. Lots and lots of good hugs."

Skip came into my life in 3rd grade. My folks were getting a divorce and it was ugly, as most divorces are. A long time friend of the family, whom I called Grandma, put Mom and Skip together, for support. They were both going through the same thing. Mom's divorce from my father took 3 years. It was unpleasant in every regard. I was an angst filled terror that let everyone know how miserable I was at every turn. I tried everything I could to try to come between Mom and Skip. He was either strong or stupid, because he stuck around. Once the ink was dry, things didn't really improve. Skip and I got on better, but I still tested him to the fullest extent. He was, under no circumstances, going to win my full approval. There were a few times (two, actually) that I said a little more than I should have, in a way that was maybe a tad disrespectful, and I felt the sting of those words come back across my face. Only twice, and in the end, who was more upset? Skip, surely.

I was thinking of all of this as I froze this morning, about what a great gift he has been. It led me to remember the summer that I was 15 or so. Mom was away for most of the summer and into the winter, working, and it was Skip and I left at home. New Years Eve I went over to a friends house. His guardians (not his parents, he'd left home) were pretty lenient and allowed us the ring in the New Year with wine and liquor. It didn't take much! I made it home on time, drunk, and Skip had waited up for me. He sat, smiled, and fixed me a big bowl of Spumoni ice cream. I was positive that if I sat there and ate my ice cream he wouldn't know I'd been drinking and I could avoid being in trouble. I can still picture the smile he had on his face as I sat upstairs, regretting the drinks and the ice cream as it all came back up. That was my punishment, and I did not like it one bit. Man I was mad at him...

Happy New Year everyone. I hope that you have some really wonderful gifts in your life that will make this coming year fabulous.

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