I'm not sure of the why of this new obsession, except that my dad was a bridge builder- and more. Bridges excited him. No matter where we were, driving by one of his projects or a competitor's, to driving across bridges in some distant land, he always had comments, appreciation for good craftsmanship and engineering, or a critique of things gone wrong. He always knew. He did a lot of things in life, but construction was held dear. He would say, "You build something that you can see and touch. Something real that will be there for generations to use." He spoke of the "bridges" we build, reaching out to others, making connections with the people God puts in our path. He was a master at this construction as well. He had friendships that spanned generational, cultural and economic chasms. It's because he would find things in common with all he met. He would reach out. He would walk alongside.
Over the next few days or more I plan on doing a series of bridge paintings to honor the memory of an engineer, bridge builder-extrordinare, my dad, Leonard Brutocao. I miss him more than words can express.