When a carpenter dies his customers are devastated. He’s worked on their houses for years even built several of them to begin with. When they called he always showed up.
Their kids knew him and he knew all their names. They left him dinner in the mailbox once in awhile and other times called ahead and met up with him in the driveway to deliver.
They never argued about what it cost.
To them, he was “My carpenter”.
“My carpenter did this…”, “My carpenter built that from scratch..”, “My carpenter showed me how to…”
And now he’s dead, and they mourn.
And by the end of next week, they’ll have a new carpenter.