The Candy Canes

There were many things my Dad left behind when he died which I hung on to. Over the years, I have let go of many of these things, keeping only those that I cherish or that could be passed down to his grand-children. Some of the things I cherish are of little value, but they mean the world to me. One of these things are two wooden candy canes he made and used for Christmas decorating. For the first few years after Dad died, I used them to decorate our yard, but for the past fifteen years or so, they have sat in our garage. I had kept other decorations he had made, including a star and a wooden “Merry Christmas” sign. I was able to let go of those decorations, but those candy canes were special! I always loved them as a child, their beautiful red lights shining brightly at night. In the daytime, they were stunning with their shiny red and white stripes. Those candy canes meant Christmas to me. The candy canes are one of the few things I brought with me when I moved to the city four years ago, and again they sat in our garage. The paint had faded and even chipped off in some spots, and the candy canes looked very worn out, but still I could not part with them. Every year, I told my husband that I would paint them and use them this year. Well, the other day I finally went to the paint store and bought red and white paint. Last night, I dug out the candy canes from behind some lumber, sanded them down and began to paint the red stripes. As I painted, memories came rushing back, memories I didn’t even know I still had. I remembered my Dad coming back from Saskatoon where he had seen “Candy Cane Lane”. I remember his excitement as he talked about how he wanted to decorate our yard and how he wanted to make his own candy canes, just like the ones he had seen in Saskatoon. Our kitchen was a hub of activities, as he enlisted his friends to help him. I especially remember Mrs. Richard sitting at the kitchen table, cutting out a pattern to use for the candy canes. She had been brought in by my dad because of her artistic abilities. Saws, drills and paint were brought into our kitchen, much to my mother’s dismay. Dad even drilled a hole in the side of our kitchen table when he was drilling holes into his decorations. We used that table for years, with the hole in it. As I re-painted those candy canes last night, I could once again feel the excitement as we children watched. Re-painting the strips my Dad and Mrs. Richard had so lovingly painted decades ago and reliving those memories, I felt a strong connection with him. I realize now that is why those candy canes are so special to me, not only because I thought they were so beautiful, but because they were special to him. I think this is the same connection Natalie Cole or Lisa Presley felt when they recorded a song with the fathers decades after their fathers had died. Sharing something with your father that was special to him, years after his death is an incredible experience. This year, when I display my freshly-painted candy canes, they will be even more special to me than ever before. Loving a gift from your father years after his death. . . . it’s a good thing!