There are moments that grab you and take your breath away. They can be beautiful, heartbreaking, terrifying, or transport you into the past. My husband and I bought his Grandfather’s house when we got married. We have slowly been renovating and updating it over the past five years but there are still sections of the house that remain mostly untouched. These hidden places still remind me so much of his Grandfather. The primary place is the garage. My husband and his Grandfather looked a lot alike and although I didn’t know him very well, I am assuming acted similar as well. There are times that I walk by while Speed Racer is working in the garage and see him standing, brow furrowed at some mechanical mayhem. His hands buried in the pockets of his worn and oil stained jeans, boots clacking on the floor, sleeves of his plaid shirt rolled up, occasionally taking his hands out of his pockets to run through his hair and I almost see his Grandfather, boots, worn oil stained jeans, plaid shirt, take one of his hands out of his pockets and lay it on his Grandsons shoulder. It takes my breath away.