Sunday, January 20, 2013

Hey Dad… Guess What I Found?

Thanks again Habitat Restore!
Taken: January 12th, 2013
After my Mom died, that following summer Dad and I packed his house up of any extras he felt he wouldn't use. Because he wasn’t ready to donate the items, we loaded up his car, and shipped the boxes to the lake.

The next time I arrived at Camp, I noticed he had personally saved the gold painted Petro Canada Olympic glasses from a life in storage. He had neatly placed all of them on the shelf with all of the other mismatched glassware. 

From that very moment, those glasses became the ‘Official Holder of Rhondi’s Camp Spirits’. Over the years, one by one they slowly broke, until there was only one left.

When Dad died, we had his girlfriend help herself to whatever she wanted, as they had been partners on and off for almost 20 years. I remember being emotional when she took MY very last glass. 

I mean that in jest. We never really noticed that the other used the same glass until there was only one left. So you can imagine those last few summers at Camp had that particular glass on the hot seat.

It started late one afternoon when I spied her pouring herself a glass of beer. In the whiniest voice imaginable, and at the top of my lungs, I yelled "Daaaaaaaaaddddddy! She's using my glass!!  We all howled with laughter. That moment in itself was the start of it all, it was on! I really do recall being disappointed at the discovery it was gone; but the matter a fact was, it was just as much hers, as it was mine. 

When the Habitat Restore opened here a few years ago I was given hope. I’d see several styles of the same series of glasses being donated but never the one that I used to love at Poppa’s Camp. I am almost embarrassed to admit that my quest had me check the Restore every single Saturday morning for over a year.

My hard work paid off because I eventually hit the mother load. I was estatic when I finally discovered a set of four of MY glasses in amazing condition. Two stayed home and two made their way to Orillia Lake. The two at home suffered a brutal death by dishwasher so one was borrowed from the cottage. The third dishwasher homicide had only the one at the cottage alive and well. It too eventually got broken. That was the summer of 2010.

I stopped going to the Restore every Saturday but when I did happen to stop in I would always check. Last Saturday there was only one. It was very well worn; and by its faded gold logo, I can tell it had survived a life in the dishwasher, only to find its way to me.

I know it's a silly story but it's true. Every time I open the glassware cupboard and see it, or pick it up and move it, I'll think of my Dad. I can hear his voice. The sound of his laughter. Most of all I hear the shuffle of his feet in his slipper two sizes too large.

I have tears in my eyes as I type. All over a silly little glass. Who knew? My entire family that's who!

Jaysen, Jukebox, Loretta (using MY glass), Goob,
Poppa, Shannyn & Tony with Staccs
Taken: August 1995

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