I've been thinking about my Grandpa a lot lately, which is weird cause he's been gone for years now. He was a factory guy his whole life, worked hard, never complained, just... did what he was told. That's kinda how I remember him. And for like the last ten years, ever since he retired, he was building this wooden sailboat in his garage. Like, from scratch. EVERY weekend, he was out there, sanding, hammering, the whole deal. My dad would joke that it was his 'life's work' or whatever. And everyone, aunts, uncles, my mom, they all talked about how when it was done, he was gonna sail it all the way down the coast, like he'd finally be FREE. It was this huge thing, always just out of reach, always something to look forward to. Well, it's done now. Like, actually finished. My dad and uncle helped him get it out of the garage last month, and it's sitting there in his backyard, all shiny and perfect. And Grandpa... he just looks at it. He bought all the stuff for it, the sails, the ropes, even those life vests, but he hasn't even tried to put it in the water. Not once. He just sits on the porch, drinks his coffee, and stares at it. Like it's... a really big garden ornament. I asked him if he was gonna take it out, and he just kinda shrugged and said "Nah, too much trouble." Too much trouble?? After ten years of building it? Does that even make sense? It's just... I don't get it. All that effort, all that time, all those hopes everyone had for him, and now he just... doesn't care? Is that what happens when you finish something really big? You just realize you didn't actually want it in the first place? I mean, what's the point of working so hard for something if you don't even want it when it's done? It's making me think about everything, like what even IS the point of... anything, if that's how it ends up. It feels kinda hopeless, to be honest. Is he just too tired? Or did the build itself just... become the whole point? I just don't know what to think about it. It’s kinda freaking me out.