He would only call me by my first name. He wanted to do the talking, too, rather than have his wife tell me how he was doing. They always showed up together; I imagined it was to make up for time lost when he worked high steel around the country. The antenna farm in Duluth, a set of communication towers overlooking the city, was a source of pride to him. He had worked on a lot of it.  How he could hang around on top of a rising column of steel sticks until it got done was as much a mystery to me as how he got epilepsy was to him. At the end of it, you’re a day planner. Just because you feel able doesn’t mean you get to keep doing it. It’s not as if there is a big crane somewhere bringing up the parts you need. You take a measured step and move on.