The pencil

This pencil is probably worth half a billion dollars.

It was my fathers that he used over the course of his career. Where most in architecture have converted to computers and CAD, he and his partner still drew everything out by hand. Over the course of 34 years together, they designed thousands of custom homes. This pencil has turned all those people’s dreams into reality.

Of course I suppose it wasn’t really the pencil. That is just the tool the man used to create the direction needed to build that vision. But if you look close, you can see how the paint once fresh and clean has been worn away to reveal the shiny metal. To those of us who grew up with him, we know the hours away from family that was given to that pencil and the ideas that would be laid down on paper.

And yet, maybe it is just a pencil. To some that is all they will ever see. But for those that know, it represents all that is possible in life.

When I first started drafting, my dad gave me my own set of pencils. I still have and use them today. I find in the memories of life, it is the most peculiar things that have a way of pulling at your heart strings and causing those who have left to return once again, just for a while. For me, it was these pencils. And so when I had a chance to clean up his workspace, it was these that meant the most among all others at his table.

Last night my Mercedes was mentioning how she is always running out of pencils and that she wished she had one like mine. I thought it somewhat fitting to pass on all the history stored up in this one little pencil. And so now, it will continue its life in a new set of talented hands dedicated to making the world just a little bit better, one line at a time.