Our phone stopped working on Wednesday.  Didn't know why, it just didn't work.  Some investigation proved that it was the jack, somehow the inner part was no longer in position to make contact with the plug from the phone.  So, yesterday I took it apart and saw that a little piece which holds the connection to the plate had broken.  So, I took out my electrician's tape and reached for the phone (it was plugged into another jack close by)... and froze.

I was just about to call Grandpa and ask if it was okay to use the electrician's tape inside the jack to hold the box to the plate.

How many times did he move phone jacks around the house for Mom?  How many times did we call him with questions regarding repairs?  How much advice did he give when we were stuck on something?

It made me sad again to realize again that he's not here anymore.  But, I smiled as I pictured him rolling his eyes at me trying to fix the phone with tape. (I almost used duct tape, but then thought better of it--didn't he always use electrician's tape?)  I thought, also, that he might even be a little proud of me.

But it didn't stop me from crying.