Papa loved Corn Flakes.
As a kid, I never understood their appeal but I would proudly sit next to him at the old kitchen table and dig into my bowl as he did, while he sipped his tea, knowing full well that he'd soon put on his boots and cover-alls and walk up the hill to feed the animals. I can still see his worn plaid shirts and Dickies and hear him singing funny Gaelic songs when I close my eyes.
We ate lobster together. We laughed together. We restored the horse harness he'd built with his father and grandfather together. We daydreamed and picked berries and sat on the step watching lightning together. He was everything a grandfather was supposed to be, and then some. My favourite memory of all is seeing him hold F for the first time. His great-grandson. His Dandy Boy.
I'd lost people I loved before, but nothing compared to the loss I felt when Mom woke me on May 3, 2010. I knew before she spoke and the pain and emptiness has stayed in my heart since then. To know Papa was to love him, and his funeral proved that: it was standing room only. He was buried on the Saturday before Mother's Day, and so it's a holiday that brings mixed emotions each year. I spent my first Mother's Day with a broken heart.
While picking up groceries last night, I spied Corn Flakes - the Family Size box - and memories of Papa flooded my memory. F was too young to remember him, but it's never too late for him to know the man that shaped our lives and loved us so much. I couldn't help but smile as I put the box of bland cereal into my cart and pushed on.
And after eating my breakfast this morning, I can safely say that I share Papa's love for lobster, coconut cream pie and Corn Flakes.
As a kid, I never understood their appeal but I would proudly sit next to him at the old kitchen table and dig into my bowl as he did, while he sipped his tea, knowing full well that he'd soon put on his boots and cover-alls and walk up the hill to feed the animals. I can still see his worn plaid shirts and Dickies and hear him singing funny Gaelic songs when I close my eyes.
We ate lobster together. We laughed together. We restored the horse harness he'd built with his father and grandfather together. We daydreamed and picked berries and sat on the step watching lightning together. He was everything a grandfather was supposed to be, and then some. My favourite memory of all is seeing him hold F for the first time. His great-grandson. His Dandy Boy.
I'd lost people I loved before, but nothing compared to the loss I felt when Mom woke me on May 3, 2010. I knew before she spoke and the pain and emptiness has stayed in my heart since then. To know Papa was to love him, and his funeral proved that: it was standing room only. He was buried on the Saturday before Mother's Day, and so it's a holiday that brings mixed emotions each year. I spent my first Mother's Day with a broken heart.
While picking up groceries last night, I spied Corn Flakes - the Family Size box - and memories of Papa flooded my memory. F was too young to remember him, but it's never too late for him to know the man that shaped our lives and loved us so much. I couldn't help but smile as I put the box of bland cereal into my cart and pushed on.
And after eating my breakfast this morning, I can safely say that I share Papa's love for lobster, coconut cream pie and Corn Flakes.
