A being capable of anything: long drives without bathroom breaks, driving around me on the basketball court, asking for the Phillips head, flathead, crescent wrench, socket set as I stumbled through the basic fixes, unable to summon the patience to read directions, pay attention, to think before I acted. Now, in a year when I actually worked on my car and made it better not worse, to think that I would be the missing variable in the equation of his retirement awning. The obligatory grunt of muscle as we lifted the beams. I was the one who climbed up on the ladder, who held the heavy, yet not unbearable weight above my head and lifted up and over and down the post, the crossbeam resting on both sides in position for the washer, bolt, washer, nut. I was the able body, the patient mind, the driving force. In the afternoon, I knew he was tired, wanted to call it quits and disappear into a cold shower, the leaning rock of recliner, but I insisted. Let’s get as much done today as possible. H...