This article was written by Denver Handyman Philip Faustin. I’ve known him for a number of years and wish I were half the man he is. This article was originally published at The High Calling. Philip’s blog can be found here.
The voice on the other end of the phone was sad, but resolute. Her beloved dog had “died a year ago.” It was buried in the back yard in a plastic tote box, “the kind with the snap-on lid,” she said. The family had to move and “naturally,” she blustered, “Ben needed to go with us.”
As a regular customer of mine she knew that I was very versatile. She called, hopeful. After all, a handyman can do anything, right?
I actually thought about this for a while. I called her back, thankful for an answering machine pickup. I explained that I would have to pass. I tried to be sensitive, knowing the emotions involved. For the record, I realize that exhuming animals is not something I do – ever.
And that’s a big part of my challenge – knowing my limitations. Certain things are better left to someone else. I have a simple business plan and I stick to it.
I didn’t start off my life intending to do this for a living. But my janitorial company forced me to work nights, and with a wife and a couple of young children, I knew something had to change.
“Officially” I began to work in the business when a close friend of mine who owned a busy handyman company invited me to join him. But after a couple of years, he left to pastor a church and the company was mine. I missed the friendship and companionship, but contentedly fell into the solitary role. There’s a Latin word for what I do – sola repaira.
Please, share with a friend if you feel moved.
Read all past issues at http://www.patheos.com/blogs/davidrupert
Read all past issues at http://www.patheos.com/blogs/davidrupert
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