I got paid to pick out a christmas tree yesterday and set it up and what not at work. I didn't know how to distinguish the different types of trees or that you're supposed to cut the bottom inch off. Every time i do stuff like this, or other basic construction tasks, something inside me hurts while my boss and coworkers explain the way to perform each task. I crave for my father to teach me these things and it feels like there's a wound or there's something missing internally.
He used to do all kinds of stuff like that with me when I was younger, but then it just kinda faded away as his depression hit him harder. He's but a wraith, a shadow of the man he once was.