Final Five Percent
My dad was notorious for not finishing DIY projects around the house. Growing up, there were always things half-done. Tools out. Materials stacked in a corner. Something started… but not quite finished.
But I admired him for it.
He wasn’t afraid to tackle just about anything. I remember when I was in high school he added two bedrooms onto our house. Not hired out—he did it. Framing, drywall, electrical, the whole thing. It was a huge project.
But I also remember not having a window sill in one of those rooms for over a year.
That was just Dad.
The thing is, I’m really thankful for what he gave me. I learned from him that you don’t have to be a professional to try something. If something needs to be built, fixed, or improved, you just roll up your sleeves and start figuring it out.
Apparently I also inherited another trait.
In the last couple of years I’ve tackled a handful of projects around our house—installed a sprinkler system, remodeled two bathrooms, tiled the kitchen and utility room. I enjoy the process. I like learning new things and seeing something come together with my own hands.
But… finishing every last detail?
Well.
Let’s just say I got my master bathroom functional again in November. Everything worked. Shower, sinks, tile, paint—good to go.
Except for the baseboards.
The baseboards sat in our hallway since October.
Every time we walked past them it was like they were quietly saying, “Hey… remember us?”
Yesterday I finally decided it was time. I started painting and prepping the boards so I could install them. And while I was standing there with a brush in my hand, it hit me.
I’m a lot like my dad.
Same willingness to jump into a project. Same optimism that says, “Sure, I can figure that out.” And apparently… the same ability to let the final 5% sit there for months.
I laughed out loud thinking about it.
Then I felt that little ache you feel when you remember someone you love who’s gone.
I miss him.
I wish I could have called him yesterday and told him the story. I know exactly how the conversation would have gone. We would have laughed about it, and he probably would have said something like, “Hey, at least you finally got to it!”
Angie has a running joke about my projects. She says I usually finish the last little details right before we sell the house.
Well, not this time.
We’re not planning to sell.
And as of yesterday… my baseboards are finally done.
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