Well the sentence that spoke to me was this ---
"...she slips one of her hands inside her grandfather's battered leather work glove. And with that simple act, she feels a connection across time that's both tactile and spiritual."
I've had this same connection with my grandfather long after his death. My husband and I decided to make maple syrup at my grandfather's farm that is now owned by my father. In my family, the farms are named. Even though my parents own all of them, they are named after the predecessor or by a characteristic of the property. My parents have four main farms that are named as follows: Grandpa’s farm (or the "home place" as Dad calls it), the gob pile farm, The Weatherwax Farm and lastly The Owen County Farm.
While at my Grandfather’s farm my husband and I came across the taps that Grandpa used to tap the maple trees for syrup. My grandfather actually built a shed to make maple syrup … which us kids all called the "Maple Syrup Barn", but it is really a shack or a lean-to.
One year our whole family got together and made maple syrup. Though this was heart warming and wonderful, it is not when I felt most connected to Grandpa. It occurred a week later. We left the taps in the trees so that we could all come back and make the syrup the next weekend. Tony & I happened to stop by Grandpa’s as Tony was working in Clay City near the farm. When we stopped at Grandpas we saw that all the buckets were overflowing with sap.
I told Tony to go on to his work and that I was going to stay at Grandpas and make maple syrup by myself. I was using the same taps that my grandfather used, in the same building, going through the same steps. Making syrup is not an easy job, but I was doing it by myself just as my Grandfather would have done. It was wonderful day.
I felt like I was walking in his shoes.
