My middle son loves to fish. So do I. He doesn’t have to twist my arm too hard as he often asks me to take him to the pond on our land just outside of town. Several years ago, I offered to buy him a new and larger tacklebox as he had outgrown his small child-sized one. It was overflowing with his favorite lures and miscellaneous fishing tools. He shocked me when he said, “No.” He pointed to a shelf in the garage and said, “Can I have that one?” His question surprised me, but also greatly blessed me. He had pointed to an old beat up, heavily used, out-of-date tacklebox. It was my grandpa’s tacklebox.
Toolboxes and tools that belonged to my grandpas are some of my prized possessions. I keep my own tools in them. They mean more to me than anything I could buy at the store. I developed a love for fishing from my grandpa Max. My dad let me have his tacklebox after he passed away in 2005. My grandpa Paul, my mom’s stepdad, loved to work on his old Ford truck. I have his toolbox with his automotive tools. Those tools have come in handy on more than one occasion. My wife’s Pa Pa gave me his WWII ammunition box after we first got married. I store my ammo in it. I look at it every day as it sits 12 inches away from me at my desk. I wrote about its meaning to me after he passed away (you can read about it here – Communicate Like a Man – The Ammo Can and the Language of a Great Generation of Men). My grandpa JD’s knife (made by my dad) and his duck call sit on my desk. These, along with the many other tools that I have accumulated from these men, mean the world to me.
When my son asked for my grandpa’s tacklebox, I said. “That box belonged to Grandpa Max.” All three of my grandpas (one a step-grandpa) passed before my sons were born. My son replied, “I know. That’s why I want it. Its special.” I reached up and grabbed it from the shelf and told him, “I would love for you to have it.” My son understood something that I believed was beyond his years. He wanted to feel connected to the men before him and realized that this tacklebox told an important story.
Although these toolboxes are a tangible memory of these men, what is special to me is the men they represent. These men left me with tools that are greater than anything I can hold in my hand or store in my garage. They paved a way for me in life. They directly and indirectly helped to shape me into the man I am today. These were good men, but they weren’t perfect. They were flawed. They had their own battles that they faced in life. They did not always win every battle. At times, their battles got the best of them. In some cases, hurt, depression, physical health issues, and even addiction followed. But, so did qualities of triumph, redemption, leadership, and many others that I am able to glean from and be proud of. These are my men, the men who came before me. I am grateful for their stories.
I realize that many of you reading this may not have memories of the men that came before you. Or your memories are not good ones. You may come from broken homes, abandonment, addiction, or abuse. For this, I apologize. Unfortunately, there may be no toolbox that was passed down to you or it may be full of tools that do not represent the man you want to be. The good news is that the real message that I want to give is that it is not about the toolbox that you may or may not have received. Rather, the importance is the one that you build and will one day give. Your toolbox is your life, your story. One day a boy may ask his dad if he can have your toolbox. What will be inside?
Will it be full of useful tools that can help him on his journey? Or will it be empty? Many toolboxes are thrown away because they were rendered useless. They represented more hurt than help. They brought pain rather than purpose. If you were fortunate enough to be given a toolbox, then make sure you add worth to it and build upon it for when you pass it along one day. If you were not so fortunate, then I still have good news for you. You get to build one from scratch. Your story will be special to your children and grandchildren because you were the one who created the foundation that they now get to stand on. A foundation that you did not have, but that you established. What a wonderful story to leave behind.
Begin building your toolbox now for men who will come after you. Your life is not just your own. Your life and your story will impact many. You must decide if that impact is hurtful or helpful. If it is full of pain or if it is full of purpose. I want my future grandson to ask his dad for my toolbox. I believe that you want the same.
