Growing up, we learned how to fix
things and my grandma could fix just about anything! From rewiring lamps to replacing the float
on the toilet to re-upholstering the dining room chairs, she taught us to do it
all. When an object was becoming worn
out or had broken, the only option was to spruce it up or repair it. We simply didn’t throw something away and go
purchase a new one.
Sometimes, a fresh coat of paint
is all that is needed to breathe life back into an object that has become run
down and past its prime. A little bit of
time and elbow grease is needed to prep, sand, and paint, but the final product
can be amazing. That old wood trim that
was faded and peeling suddenly looks brand new and beautiful again. But sometimes just slapping on a new coat of
paint isn’t really the best answer. Over
time wood becomes damaged. It is possible
that a little sanding will smooth out the rough spots and prepare the wood to
take the new paint. Other times, you
need to look closer before you just try to sand off the imperfections that you
assume to simply be on the surface. At
some point, the splits and cracks become too deep to fill. The board may warp or begin to rot. It doesn’t matter how many coats of paint you
try to cover a rotten board with, it just isn’t strong enough to continue to be
functional. At what point is the wood
beyond repair? How do you know when you
just need to roll up your sleeves, spend a little more time and effort working
to repair it? Or how do you know when
the board has rotten beyond repair and there is no other option but to remove it? The surface doesn’t always tell you
the whole story of what lies beneath.
I am hesitant to even consider
replacing the board. My head tells me
that I need a strong and solid foundation to build upon and board that is not
strong enough to carry out that task needs to be removed. But my heart, oh my heart aches at the
thought that there are pieces that might not have weathered the storm. My heart believes that just one more coat of
paint is needed, it will work this time.
My head disagrees. Logic and
intelligence insists that these blemishes are just too deep to try to brush
over, but my heart holds out hope.
I have learned how to fix a vast
array of things over the years, but maybe now I need to learn how to let go.
