More Than Meets The Eye
Category: Life
As the one year anniversary of Darrel's death looms closer, it is still
impossible to believe he is actually gone. There is still, and hopefully
always will be, so much of him in every corner of the house. Though his old
room is now Kira's (and very pink), and countless renovations have taken place,
there constant physical reminders that this IS his home too.
Pictures are scattered here, there and everywhere....his hand made crafts
still sit proudly on display....various items are still around and in use with
his name on them (from paper notepads to packages of gum to avoid fights with
his sisters)....or his GameCube memory cards sitting by the console waiting to
be used once more (I still give Kira crap if she plays Zelda or Harvest Moon on
his card. He wanted to strangle her when she 'accidently' erased one of his
battles last year. Kira was in a rush to copy his file on to her memory card
before he took his with him to the hospital...but it didn't quite turn out that
way). These are still signs that a family of five lives here.
Just last month, when we had a new floor put in the kitchen and new trim
installed in the living room, more proof (as if we needed any) was quite
evident. Several of the larger pieces of furniture were moved for the first
time in a long time, and we found items that would and/or could have only been
stashed there by Darrel. From marbles and other small toys, to what we believe
was once a Rice Krispie Square (Darrel usually took them with him on hospital
road trips...with an abundant supply of Apple Juice of course) in a sealed
Ziploc bag underneath the entertainment unit, they were certainly finds that
gave me a pause for a moment or two. The fact that discovering a hardened
greenish blue lump (it was probably smelly too, but I didn't open the bag to
check) could stir such happy, angry, sad and a variety emotions all over the
scale has become second nature to me.
It's always the little things that come out of the blue, and that you don't
expect that hit you the deepest. Like seeing a box of cereal in the grocery
store. That was all it took a few weeks ago. One of Darrel's favourites was
Oatmeal Crisp - Maple Nut. There are several kinds of Oatmeal Crisp, but the
Maple Nut was the only one he liked....but the problem was he didn't actually
like the larger nut clusters.
Every breakfast, it was a very slow process if he wanted that kind of
cereal. I would have to slowly pour a small portion into his bowl, and we
would have to sift through and remove the clusters he deemed too big to pass
his meticulous inspection (he used to take a similar and tedious approach when
selecting his homemade carmel popcorn...alot of time and thought went into each
kernel chosen as worthy) This procedure would be repeated countless times
before the milk was added and his actual breakfast would begin. Of course,
everyone else really liked the clusters, so they were returned to the box,
making more work for Darrel and I the next morning. I could have certainly
taken steps to speed up the entire task, but why would I have wanted to do
that? As I work in a grocery store, I pass by that section of the aisle
constantly, but on that particular day for some reason, it was not simply a box
of Oatmeal Crisp, it was a piece of Darrel, and I almost lost it.
Whether it be Apple Juice, Chicken McNuggets, Oatmeal Crisp, a bottle of
Flintstone vitamins, or walking up Yonge Street in Toronto in the rain, these
things have formed a deeper connection and bond with me. The symbolism they
represent can not be denied or avoided, and can strike with an unsuspecting
fury at any time. I often find myself trying to shake off the mounting pain
and sadness these moments can create when out in public, (as many of those
around me would have no idea what or why such a response was sparked), but at
the same time, I often want to let it all out. Though those close to me would
understand, countless others would not, and I have no desire to explain, or for
the return of the well-intentioned "Pity Parade". While others may only see
or hear common daily sights and sounds, to me... they are something
else...something special. To borrow a line from one of Darrel's favourite show,
'Transformers', with such times, there truly is "More Than Meets The Eye".
Category: Life
As the one year anniversary of Darrel's death looms closer, it is still
impossible to believe he is actually gone. There is still, and hopefully
always will be, so much of him in every corner of the house. Though his old
room is now Kira's (and very pink), and countless renovations have taken place,
there constant physical reminders that this IS his home too.
Pictures are scattered here, there and everywhere....his hand made crafts
still sit proudly on display....various items are still around and in use with
his name on them (from paper notepads to packages of gum to avoid fights with
his sisters)....or his GameCube memory cards sitting by the console waiting to
be used once more (I still give Kira crap if she plays Zelda or Harvest Moon on
his card. He wanted to strangle her when she 'accidently' erased one of his
battles last year. Kira was in a rush to copy his file on to her memory card
before he took his with him to the hospital...but it didn't quite turn out that
way). These are still signs that a family of five lives here.
Just last month, when we had a new floor put in the kitchen and new trim
installed in the living room, more proof (as if we needed any) was quite
evident. Several of the larger pieces of furniture were moved for the first
time in a long time, and we found items that would and/or could have only been
stashed there by Darrel. From marbles and other small toys, to what we believe
was once a Rice Krispie Square (Darrel usually took them with him on hospital
road trips...with an abundant supply of Apple Juice of course) in a sealed
Ziploc bag underneath the entertainment unit, they were certainly finds that
gave me a pause for a moment or two. The fact that discovering a hardened
greenish blue lump (it was probably smelly too, but I didn't open the bag to
check) could stir such happy, angry, sad and a variety emotions all over the
scale has become second nature to me.
It's always the little things that come out of the blue, and that you don't
expect that hit you the deepest. Like seeing a box of cereal in the grocery
store. That was all it took a few weeks ago. One of Darrel's favourites was
Oatmeal Crisp - Maple Nut. There are several kinds of Oatmeal Crisp, but the
Maple Nut was the only one he liked....but the problem was he didn't actually
like the larger nut clusters.
Every breakfast, it was a very slow process if he wanted that kind of
cereal. I would have to slowly pour a small portion into his bowl, and we
would have to sift through and remove the clusters he deemed too big to pass
his meticulous inspection (he used to take a similar and tedious approach when
selecting his homemade carmel popcorn...alot of time and thought went into each
kernel chosen as worthy) This procedure would be repeated countless times
before the milk was added and his actual breakfast would begin. Of course,
everyone else really liked the clusters, so they were returned to the box,
making more work for Darrel and I the next morning. I could have certainly
taken steps to speed up the entire task, but why would I have wanted to do
that? As I work in a grocery store, I pass by that section of the aisle
constantly, but on that particular day for some reason, it was not simply a box
of Oatmeal Crisp, it was a piece of Darrel, and I almost lost it.
Whether it be Apple Juice, Chicken McNuggets, Oatmeal Crisp, a bottle of
Flintstone vitamins, or walking up Yonge Street in Toronto in the rain, these
things have formed a deeper connection and bond with me. The symbolism they
represent can not be denied or avoided, and can strike with an unsuspecting
fury at any time. I often find myself trying to shake off the mounting pain
and sadness these moments can create when out in public, (as many of those
around me would have no idea what or why such a response was sparked), but at
the same time, I often want to let it all out. Though those close to me would
understand, countless others would not, and I have no desire to explain, or for
the return of the well-intentioned "Pity Parade". While others may only see
or hear common daily sights and sounds, to me... they are something
else...something special. To borrow a line from one of Darrel's favourite show,
'Transformers', with such times, there truly is "More Than Meets The Eye".
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