Who do I pass my knack for this work to before I'm gone?

You know a problem before the gauge does. You hear it in a sound, feel it in a vibration. That skill took decades to build, and now your knees and your back are sending their own bill. You look around the shop and wonder who's left to catch what you know. Here's what's actually keeping you up at night. It isn't the pain in your hands. It's the thought of your knowledge disappearing the day you stop showing up. Nobody wrote it down because nobody could. It lived in you. That's still true. But it doesn't have to stay true. Teaching someone is a choice you make this week, not a project you finish someday. You don't need the perfect student. You need to start.