Bird Bones

Last weekend, my extended family gathered around Uncle Packard to celebrate his 80th birthday.  I was in his garage early Saturday to start preparing the t-bird front chassis for paint.  He was in his garage adjusting the timing after replacing the rods on his 36 Packard convertible sedan.  As I worked, each of my cousins came by, one at a time, which allowed me to have a delightful stream of private conversations.  "Cousin Mustang" helped me put the rear window in the hardtop and take the top off the car.  He then helped me place the seat in the car, and place cushions on the springs.  We both sat in the car, and determined that it wasn't practical to attempt to move the seat back any farther.  Cousin Mustang then picked up a power scraper and helped me scrape and sand the forward part of the frame.

It's probably just vanity on my part, but I want the car to look like I have done a "frame off" restoration, even though I haven't.  There is something inherently right about seeing a freshly painted frame under a freshly rebuilt engine, in a freshly painted engine compartment.
Having the seat in the car provided a venue for conversations with each of my other cousins, in turn.  We talked about grandma, and about Dad.   I got to tell the story of the car many, many times... I hope I'm getting better at it.  The party lasted all day, and well into the night.   Parties in my family tradition involve large quantities of conversation and food, and a fair amount of alcohol to accompany each.  This was a very good party.  My cousins are very good company!  Sadly, Uncle Packard couldn't get his 36 convertible sedan to run correctly.
Today I went back to Uncle Packard's garage to prime the frame that we stripped last weekend.  I used black epoxy primer, which is pretty cool stuff!  I'm pleased with the results:

I will return and paint the frame tomorrow.  It probably won't look much different with black paint on it, but it will be more durable.
Uncle Packard was still having trouble with the '36, so he invited Mr. Mechanic to help out.  It turns out that the engine timing was off 180 degrees, which is a common mistake.  By mid day, the engine was purring like a large cat.  Uncle and I had another light lunch together, and spoke about Dad.  We both agree that Dad is a difficult person to like, but we both care about him deeply. 
I'm struck by this paradox.  I love my Dad, but he seems to make every effort to avoid emotional connection with me.  He and I will be driving to #1 Son's graduation next month, a road trip taking several days.  I have mixed feelings about spending so much time with him.  He is not a gifted conversationalist... he tends to lecture, seldom listens, and very rarely asks.
Has my relationship with him gotten worse over the years?  No, in fact it has gotten better.  It's just that, after dealing with my Mom's death, and my Mother-in-law's death, I really have little tolerance for empty "conversation", or lectures.  I want weight in my relationships.  I want bones.
The front end of my t-bird is now hanging in pieces in my garage, having just been primed and painted.  They are like the bones of the car, of this family hierloom.  Bird bones.

They have been carefully cleaned, scraped, wire brushed, primed, and painted.  Restored.
Right now, I'm not so confident that the bones of my relationship with my father can be so easily restored, let alone identified.  Many are broken, some are missing.  Dad is slowly dying, but he's not yet ready to face that reality.  I feel helpless.
Ezekiel 37:7