T is for Tom
Remembering Tom - 4th in a 30 piece series
When we were kids, my dad had a leather keychain with his initial “T” stamped into it. The piece of leather, about the size of a child's palm, was soft, bendable and worn from years of use. I am not sure what happened to it after he died, but I think of it at times, especially when seeing leather key chains, usually as some kind of tourist gift.
As my dad’s 73rd birthday approached, I found myself in a leather store, soaking in the earthy smell, and buying 0.2cm thick leather along with all the tools to hand cut, stain, and stamp enough T for Tom key chains for my siblings, kids and me.
With the careful cutting of each piece and patient smoothing of the edges I thought of the detail my dad put into his work. I stamped the formed pieces with a T, dyed them dark brown, and let them dry. I punched through the tops, and placed the rivets and the silver rings on them. I learned as I went, watched some videos, and asked for some advice, like I would have of my father.
My dad, who became a mechanical engineer by watching and doing and without a college degree, could teach himself anything he set his mind to.
If he wanted to write in calligraphy, draw a sunflower, fix a VCR, plant a garden or design the inside of one of the first X-Ray baggage scanners in the US, he gathered the supplies, tried things, tinkered and eventually got it put together, figured out, fixed or intricately designed.
As I worked with the leather, and watched my hands turn it into form, I imagined him starting his car, opening the door to the house, tossing the keys on the counter, shoving them in his pocket - how many times did he put that key chain in his pocket? I remembered him teaching me how to drive, and the feeling of freedom the first time I drove with my shiny new license and dad’s old leather key chain in my hand.
I thought about the life he lived. The everyday experiences he had, we all have, that make up a life, accompanied by the key chain we carry for decades. The one that lasts past a marriage, through the raising of our child, to each new job, to every grocery store we have ever been in.
My sister told me the keychain came from a craft fair at Gunstock, a campground we used to go to every summer in NH. She remembers seeing all the crafts and being there when he picked out the key chain. I was probably a toddler.
On his 73rd birthday, I mailed my dad’s replica T for Tom keychains to my siblings, ordered my dad’s favorite chicken wings and ate them with my kids. We shared our favorite “Grampy” memories and lit a candle. It’s been another five years - my T is for Tom keychain needs a few more years and countless more grocery store runs to be properly worn.