The Carpentry Way

Hello Carpentry Way readers—both old friends and new visitors,

Amazingly, today marks the fifth anniversary of Chris’s death. It’s hard to believe it’s been so long since I last heard his footsteps, talked with him, or saw him in person.

I still miss him and think of him daily, though it’s much easier now than it was at the beginning. Today feels almost normal—though not quite. Being happily remarried and having Ryden – who is such a great kid and a lot like his dad – certainly helps a lot.

Chris left behind many wonderful things that are uniquely him: his furniture, his architectural work, and his writing. Not everyone gets to leave such a tangible legacy.

It means a lot to me that people continue to visit the blog and purchase Chris’s carpentry essays. Thank you to those who email to say you’re thinking of him or still inspired by his work. That truly means the world.

I pulled over yesterday to take a photo of this stop sign, with Chris on my mind, and that during challenging times, remembering to love the world helps to keep me going, just as it did when Chris was dying.

I wanted to share a few tidbits about Chris you might not know from the blog. He held black belts in two martial arts—hapkido and jujitsu—but eventually stepped away from practicing after a friend asked why he was devoting energy to something rooted in violence. He continued to respect martial arts and those who practice them, but chose to focus elsewhere.

That said, he had amazing reflexes…

The day he went in for the lung biopsy that confirmed his cancer was terminal, we were driving to Boston in early morning rush hour. Despite being ill and facing an unimaginably difficult day, he insisted on driving. At one point, a car suddenly swerved into our lane. With just six inches of clearance, he calmly steered us out of danger—no overreaction, no panic, just precision. Then he took a deep breath and kept driving, completely focused.

He loved mountain biking, disc golf, making sushi and pizza—and he was completely unbothered by changing diapers. His musical taste was eclectic: Blue Öyster Cult, John Coltrane, Selena Gomez, and Mariah Carey all had a place in his playlists. As readers of this blog know, he could be intensely focused and serious about carpentry, and sometimes even a bit harsh in his critiques. But he was also open to feedback, and his sense of humor stuck with him right up to the end of his ability to speak.

To mark this anniversary, I wanted to share a few things with you.

I’ve been reading a book I think Chris would’ve liked—or at least appreciated. It’s called Water, Wood, and Wild Things: Learning Craft and Cultivation in a Japanese Mountain Town by Hannah Kirshner. You can learn more about it and read an excerpt here.

Even though it includes long sections on making sake and hunting—and I’m a vegetarian who’s never been interested in alcohol—I found it captivating. What drew me in was the mindful approach to every aspect of life. As a child, I loved books that explained how things were made. I often felt our modern world was disconnected from the physical reality of how we live—from the food we eat to the tools we use. Chris’s skill, focus, and ability to make so many things by hand always felt deeply meaningful to me. This book reminds me of that spirit and how important it is to traditional Japanese culture, and I think many of you will appreciate it too.

Here are two very short videos that I thought you might like to see.

• From Chris’s birthday in 2015—just about ten years ago, as he died the day before his birthday.
• Chris with Ryden about a year before Chris died.

I hope you enjoy these glimpses of him.

And now, some good news and a big thank you to Brian Holcombe: he repaired the head of Chris’s shrine lantern, which had been damaged shortly before Chris’s diagnosis. [Here is the last post I shared about it.] I now have the repaired lantern head, and once we find the right spot for it, I’ll share an update. Brian recommended placing it somewhere sheltered, as it’s more fragile now and not suited to snow, ice, or rain.

Coming up, my new spouse and I are taking Ryden to see the bench Chris built for the Japanese machiya (merchant’s house) exhibit at the Boston Children’s Museum. The wonderful longtime museum staff member, Akemi Chayama, has kindly offered to show us around. Ryden will also get to see the gate Chris built at the MFA. I’m looking forward to the visit and will share more if there’s anything I think you’d enjoy seeing.

With gratitude and warm wishes,
Thank you for stopping by The Carpentry Way. I keep this going because of you—and because of Chris.