It’s a Kind of Magic

Quick one, then back to work.

Yesterday, in a book review, I mentioned Brent and me turning wands on a lathe up at the Woodcarvers Building. That really was a great time, and recalling that memory led me to thinking of a couple of prized possessions that came to me from him.

One was a willow shaft Brent had cut. About a foot and three-quarters or so. He sanded the hell out of it too. Dropped it by my house one night and said, “Here, this’ll make a beautiful wand.” So, we made plans to hit the lathe again in the near future. We never did. So I’ve still got that willow shaft waiting to become a wand and now I don’t know if I should work the wood or keep it as he gave it to me?

That’s not the only thing he’s given me that has inspired that line of thinking.

Right after Brent remodeled our house, I gave him a gift. It was one of my prized possessions — a cold steel tanto with a 12 inch blade and an almost 6 inch kray-ex handle. As my kid would say, that knife was a boss. Anyway, I gave it to him out of appreciation for the great work he did on our house and I knew he loved it. He was with me when I bought it back in 1987.

Anyway, the thing is, he appreciated my giving him the tanto so much that he gave me a gift in return. Never mind that my gift was because he had given my wife and I a beautiful home. So, he pulls up a couple of days later and says, “I’ve got you something,” and out of his van he pulls this badass shaft of wood, a little over 6 feet of awesome walking staff.

He said he’d been working it for awhile, and it wasn’t quite done yet, but he wanted me to have it. He promised we’d sit out by the fire over several nights and finish her up.

We never did.

There are other things, like the hand-carved bokken he made for me, or the hockey stick that had come from his Grandpa Dick’s Store, or the empty tanto sheath… all he had left after his misadventure in Florida.

They’re all just things, but they’re infused with his sweat and blood… with his spirit.

We used to believe objects could be ingrained with mystical energies. If that’s true, then I’ve a den full of such items, each one imbued with a kind of magic that will linger until our last memories fade and we are cast adrift on a sea of fond remembrances.


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