10/26/2026
I thought I was just installing pantry doors. Instead, I found myself thinking about every “Pop” who ever taught me how to build something.
The other day, I helped an older gentleman install French doors for his pantry—and the whole project felt strangely familiar.
He wanted the doorway widened, so he handled the demolition himself. When I arrived, the tools were out, the materials were ready, and the house was prepped.
He just needed an extra set of hands to put it all back together.
We patched the opening, installed the doors, and got the job done.
But the best part wasn’t the doors.
It reminded me of the “Pops” I grew up around.
As a kid, I had several older neighbors who were always working on something. They could build or fix just about anything, and they weren’t afraid to get their hands dirty.
As they got older, their bodies couldn’t always keep up with their minds—but that never stopped them from trying.
I spent plenty of time helping with their projects: wheelchair ramps, chicken coops, repairs around the house—you name it.
And just about every one of those old guys was called “Pop.”
Looking back, I thought I was the one helping them.
Turns out, they were teaching me more than I realized.
They taught me how to use tools, solve problems, work with my hands, and appreciate the satisfaction of standing back to admire something you built.
And if you’ve ever worked alongside an old man determined to finish a project, you know the routine.
He might be stubborn, a little grumpy, and very willing to explain how he would’ve done it. 😂
But there’s something special about seeing that smile when the job is finally finished.
That’s what this pantry door project reminded me of.
Sometimes it’s not about the money, the size of the job, or how fast you finish.
Sometimes it’s about the conversations, the memories, and being an extra set of hands for someone who still wants to build.
So to all the “Pops” out there—and especially the ones who helped raise me—thank you.
Thank you for the knowledge, patience, stories, and time you shared. You taught me lessons I still use today.
Including this one:
Sometimes all it takes to make a grumpy old man smile is a finished project, a little patience, and someone willing to help.
The doors may be new, but the lessons are timeless.
Semper Fi, Pops. 🇺🇸
— PD Home Pros
Precision and Detail. More than just a name.
