Back in April 2020, I worked a part-time maintenance position at my apartment complex. I had recently been laid off as an Operations Manager at a hotel due to furloughs brought on by COVID-19.

An older tenant in his sixties approached me while I was working, asking if I could replace a flat tire. I told him I had never replaced one, so I wouldn't be of much help.

"That makes two of us. Two brains must be better than one," he said.

His general demeanor was positive, and his tone, exploratory. That relieved some pressure, so I obliged. We agreed to meet after my shift.

I spent the next 10 minutes reading a wikiHow article on replacing a tire.

We reconvened at the parking garage. We spent the entire time talking about life. I told him that I was the father he never had. He had a good laugh.

Thirty minutes later, hands tattooed with grease*, the job was finished. He thanked me and left for Costco immediately after.

*He did nothing. I didn't accept his help. He stood off to the side, keeping me company and inspecting my superb handiwork. He reminded me of my grandfather, who had joined me on the drive from California for my then-new life in Washington State. It was a full-circle moment.