What makes a thing worth fixing, really?

I was replacing a hydraulic seal today—old, cracked, leaking like it had been holding its breath for years. The operator didn’t even notice it was failing until the lift dropped halfway. I fixed it. But I kept thinking: why do we keep things alive? Not because they’re useful, not always. Sometimes just because they remember how to work. Like my grandfather’s old wrench—never used in years, but I still oil it every month. Is that faith? Or just stubbornness? What would you say?