Sunday Night With John: Dad's Jumbo Red-Spiced Jellybeans

Lets go back to my wedding week of June 2014

I arrived to Anne’s parents house on Wednesday to prepare the house for our wedding on Saturday.  We spent the spring prepping the property to host our big day. I moved enough mulch around their 4 acres to fulfill my life quota of mulching.  Anne and I discussed numerous ways to include my dad into our weekend. He has been gone for 17 years, but I learned so much about marriage from him and I couldn’t leave him out of this weekend. 

Dad used to come home with a mixed bag of jumbo jellybeans from work every couple of weeks.  It was a gift to us he would say but seeing him upset when we picked through the mixed bag to eat all the cinnamon flavored red ones, told us a different story. After a while Dad wised up and realized we all had the same favorite flavor, red jumbo spiced. Dad changed his approach and began to just bring home a giant bag of all jumbo red-spiced jellybeans. Everyone was happy!

I decided with Anne’s support to provide those same red jumbo spiced jellybeans for every table at our dinner Friday night, and wedding on Saturday. I have had jellybeans since my dad’s death but I hadn’t tasted one of his jumbo red-spiced beans since he was alive. I searched online and found what appeared to be similar jellybeans to my dad’s. I sent the information to my mother-in-law and sitting downstairs on the Wednesday before our big day she sets a giant bag of jumbo red-spiced jellybeans in front of me.

I retreated upstairs with a handful of the jellybeans and standing alone on the deck I popped the first jellybean in my mouth. A perfect match to my dad’s jellybeans as my tastes buds go on a ride they haven’t been on in years. I’m vividly taken back to our living room basement with a fireplace and the desk dad kept the jellybeans on. I’m a kid again just enjoying a treat with my father. It felt great to be back there again. I smiling and crying all at once as I realize my dad will be at my big weekend.

Friday night at the dinner I’m the first to speak and I thank everyone for coming. I begin to explain the jellybeans on the table and I can’t get out more than four words before I begin to cry. I know that’s what great relationships do for you, the person may be out of your life but the imprint they made on you imbues into your soul.  I turn to Anne and tell her how much my dad would have loved her because she won’t let me settle or short cut my work. Dad’s favorite lecture with me was always, “it could be better” or “what’s next?” 17 years and a jumbo red-spiced jellybean can still make me feel like he is there with me.  Great relationships have a way of never leaving us.