My father’s overalls do not fit me, but I wore them to change the oil

Dear Delyara, Dad was a mechanic. I am not. He tried teaching me when I was young, but I preferred books and offices and clean hands. He never made me feel bad about it, although he did call my desk job “advanced sitting.” Dad died last year. Today, my car needed an oil change and my son suggested we do it ourselves using Grandpa’s tools. We found Dad’s old overalls. I put them on. They were too short in the legs and too wide at the waist. My son laughed so hard he took a photograph I hope never appears online. We watched a tutorial because neither of us remembered enough of what Dad had once shown me. I spilled oil. Dropped a wrench. Used the wrong socket twice. Eventually, we finished. My hands were black. For years, Dad came home looking like that and Mum complained about fingerprints on door handles. I used to think grease was simply dirt from his work. Today, it smelled like childhood. My son said, “Grandad would be embarrassed by how long that took.” I said absolutely. Then I hung the overalls back in the garage without washing them. They still do not fit. I think that is part of why wearing them felt honest.