A Secret Stash, In The Garage, of the Greatest Generation

Haydn began every manuscript, In nomine Domini, In the name of the Lord.
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I did not know, in my father's garage, I was to read one of his deepest life manuscripts.
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Who knew Garden Design would include the garage?  Who wants to garden, when gathering clippers, 5 gallon pale with handle, tarp, etc. includes a battle in the garage merely at the round-up, and you still have to transport everything from garage to the back left hand corner of your property?
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In addition to the garage, if you have any sort of basement, you must have a secondary 'garage' there too.  Two sets of tools, wheel barrows, etc.  Don't stop there, have short & long handled pruners near your back door, in addition to having another set in the garage, and basement.
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Storage cabinets, for the garage, below, easy to find.  Thrift stores stuffed with unwanted 'Ok Boomer' and 'Greatest Generation' style furniture.


Pic, above, here.
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My dad's 2 car garage, built ca. 1966, was studs and open rafters, with a few shelves.  A NASA engineer, it's obvious he had tools to work on the cars.  Which he did. Dad died, 2012.  His garage untouched until mom died, late 2018.
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Pic, above, here.
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2019, much of dad's garage traveled to Georgia, and was placed into my tiny garden shed, shared with Beloved.  We have no garage at our ca. 1900 home.
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Pic, above, here.
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January, 2020, I had a few minutes to look thru some of dad's tool drawers for the first time.
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Pic, above, here.
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Oddly, a chain dog collar, with rabies tag attached, was in the top drawer, left-hand corner of dad's rolling multi-drawer, red metal, tool chest .  Reading the tag, in my dark shed, Dino.  Our family Afghan hound, I grew up with, and took to be put down while in college.  Dino was a show dog, and his breeder rescued him from his first owner, dropping him at our front door early on a weekend morning.  "Here's your dog !".  Dino's AKC name, Lord Soladine of Xanadu.  Not a name to forget, or dog.
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Who could know, Dino's dog collar exists, 42 years later?

 
Pic, above, here.
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A box on one of dad's shelves had my name, Tara Lee, in his fine architectural/engineering print.  Mom was the last upon this Earth, to call me by my childhood name.  What is it about seeing our parent's handwriting as we age?
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In that box, my first tea set, and my first doll.
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How did I not know dad had saved them?
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Pic, above, here.
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Beside Dino's dog collar were more surprises.  Dad had saved a metal plate off his British Morris Minor, white with red interior, 2 door, stick shift, he rebuilt in the 70's, sourcing everything by phone or letter, and having joined the Morris Minor fan club.
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Nearby was the sun visor off his 1957 MG convertible he bought used in the early 1960's, black with red leather interior, and the first car I remember.
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Pic, above, here.
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Under dad's 1957 convertible MG visor, was a key chain.  Picking it up, another emotional token, this one from his vintage 1970's 2-door Jaguar.

 
Pic, above, here.
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Holding what I'd found, more than a moment passed, before realizing their meaning.  Testament to a man born at the tail end of The Greatest Generation.
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Why would I think dad had emotions?  This deep?
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Tears, standing alone in my shed, knowing my dad a tiny bit more.  Still tears, even now, telling you.
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What should I do with these things?  First thought, ridiculous, bring them inside our house.
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A lot of you already know where all those things are now.  Exactly where my dad put them.
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'Haydn ended his manuscripts with, Lauds Deo, Praise be to God.'
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Garden & Be Well,    XO T
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Dad wouldn't have had it any other way.  Putting his emotions away, into the garage.  Get the job done.  Support a wife, and family.  Would he have wanted it easier?  Can only imagine the poor soul asking him that question.  Dad would want to do more, for God, family, work, community.  Anything less subhuman and total fail.  Greatest Generation, understatement.
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Early 2018, after eating dinner at Luby's cafeteria, I was helping mom to the car.  Mom said, "I have one regret about your daddy."  We both stopped walking, in my family, that was a sentence.  Earth-stops-rotating-on-its-axis sentence.  We stared at each other.  Mom was silent a bit.  "I never told your daddy he was a good provider."  Made my eyes tear, but didn't let mom know.
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Dad would have never thought to want or need that from mom.  Ever.  But if mom had written it into a note, I know where dad would have put it.
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Glad to have the luxury of keeping dad's treasures of the heart, where he had them.  At some point, I will take the dog collar to the pound, and sell the Morris Minor number plate, and the MG visor.  The Jaguar key chain seems original to its model year, will sell it too.  Those little bits of money, then sent to dad's favorite dog/cat pound in Texas, Bay Area Pet Adoptions/SPCA.  Mom/Dad's favorite pet shelter, and a No Kill.