wheat grinder

This was my father's wheat grinder. It is attached to his desk, the same desk to which it was attached for the last 36 years. There are marks on the desk from the grinder cutting in to the wood. Big gouges, in fact, and holes under the table where the screw that held it in place bored in to the wood. The grinder needs a new part, and I plan to go out tomorrow and try to find the part. I am missing my father terribly right now. I miss his voice, I miss his terrible puns, I miss trying to keep up with his long stride whenever we went for walks. I miss his sage advice, and I would give just about anything to play a round of pinochle with him.In the same way that his wheat grinder made marks on the desk, so he made a mark in my life. He was an excellent father, and I am so grateful for that. In the same way, I will leave my mark on the lives of my children. Some days, the path to holiness seems so long and strewn with roadblocks and distractions. Some days I am too tired to even care. However, if I want the mark I leave on my children's lives to be a good one, I will persevere.