A Most Significant Object: My Father’s Cane
Climbing out of my car at my dad’s house one summer day, I found him sitting under the old oak tree, whittling. In his eighties, he spent hours sitting in an old glider placed in the shade of the tree on land he’d coaxed fresh fruits and vegetables from for years.
I’d never paid much attention to his ancient hobby before, but this time his hands held a longer-than-usual piece of wood stripped free of bark.
“What are you making?” I asked.
“A cane to help me hobble around,” he replied in his good-natured way.
“A cane to help me hobble around,” he replied in his good-natured way.
Intrigued, I sat down across from him to watch. I had no idea my daddy had the knowledge to make a cane! He answered my questions as he patiently shaved strips of wood to the ground with his pocket knife. My father was many things, but this was the first time I viewed him as an artist. His medium was a reclaimed pine branch found in the woods behind his house. Pine because it is a soft wood with a relatively straight grain.
Whittling is slow, painstaking work. I learned dad had already cured the wood for several weeks, making it less likely to crack. On subsequent visits, I monitored his progress until finally he reached the final step of treating it with a walnut oil-based stain.
The cane is not fancy, but my dad was not a fancy man. No intricate carving graces its handle, but to me, the cane is exquisite. It so much represents the essence of my daddy.
When he passed away at age 96, this cane was the one object I took from his house. It hangs in my closet in remembrance of him. Smooth to the touch, the gorgeous grain of the wood shows through the stain, and a few scattered knots add to its beauty. A sticky rosin clings to the handle where he patched a split with duct tape years ago. It’s not perfect. But neither was he.
Who knows? I may even use it one day, although my children would probably tell you I’m too fancy.
When he passed away at age 96, this cane was the one object I took from his house. It hangs in my closet in remembrance of him. Smooth to the touch, the gorgeous grain of the wood shows through the stain. A few scattered knots add to its beauty. Sticky rosin clings to the handle where he patched a split with duct tape years ago. It’s not perfect. But neither was he.
Who knows? I may even use it one day, although my children would probably tell you I’m too fancy.
A Most Significant Object
A favorite assignment of my first-year composition students was to write about a significant object in their lives and what made it so. I introduced the project by telling them about my dad’s cane. A teacher show-and-tell.
A water bottle, a necklace, a set of car keys, a personal award are a few things I recall them writing about. While many of the items represented a life change of some sort for the young writers, they all had one common denominator: each served as a bridge to a significant person in their lives.
While many of the items represented a life change of some sort for the young writers, they all had one common denominator: each served as a bridge to a significant person in their lives. Share on XThis realization led one student to quip, “It’s not the objects in life that matters, it’s the people.”
People in my age group sometimes wonder how significant we are to those in our life. Do we matter? Do we make a difference? Are we even relevant?
Rest assured, the answers to these questions are more than likely yes. But if ever in doubt, please recall how significant you are in God’s eyes.
Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground outside your Father’s care. And even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. So don’t be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows.
(Matthew 10:29-31 NIV)
God made us down to the most minute detail.
For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
(Psalm 139:13 NIV)
God wants a relationship with us and seeks us in spite of ourselves. God pursued Adam and Eve after they sinned in the garden of Eden.
(Genesis 3 NIV)
Your Turn
Tell us below about a significant object in your life and what makes it special.
Tell us below about a significant object in your life and what makes it special.
I, too, have a precious object my dad carved. A few months ago, I pointed it out to my children. I didn’t want them to think I’d bought a little wooden dog with no value and have them just toss it away. I explained that their grandfather carved it when he was in high school, which makes it over eighty years old. It’s beautiful and priceless!
Thanks for sharing this. It demonstrates the difference between sentimental value and the other kind. My children know my cane-to-be is their granddad’s. I’d hate for it to be thrown out, too.
As a daughter of a “cane” dad, I just loved this post. My father-in-law connected canes and each of his children have one of his most special canes. Your post brought lovely memories and a grateful heart! Thank you.
“Cane” dad. I like that. We are the fortunate ones whose dads carried us as toddlers and supported us in one way or another throughout our lives. Then they transitioned to dependence on an object of support themselves, but maintained their strength, wisdom, and grace the whole journey.
Thanks for sharing!
I am most definitely one of those who connects objects with people. I have a milk frother given to me by a dear friend over three decades ago. Every time I see it, I think of my her. That’s just one of many items. I’m glad you have a treasure from your daddy, Candyce.
Yes, cooking utensils are great! I vaguely remember my mother churning butter, but I have no idea what happened to that thing. She was probably delighted to get rid of it! But along that same line, recipes I’ve saved from others through the years bring me fond memories whenever I come across them!
Great message Candyce. I don’t have many such items from my family because we left so many things behind when we immigrated. The one treasure is a box of old photos. They are my connection to the past, full of memories of the people and how they impacted my life.
Photographs are great mementos, so I know you especially cherish yours. Actual printed photos that we can easily access cannot be beat.
Candyce, what a beautiful post to remind us how valuable the people in our lives are and how uniquely God made us. I have a ceramic pair of horses pulling a carriage. It sat on my grandparents mantle. When Granddaddy knew I was coming, he’d put sticks of Juicy Fruit gum on the horses’ backs and say, “I wonder what the horses brought Jeannie today.” It’s a treasure that reminds me of my grandfather’s kindness and his clear blue eyes.
I love that story of connection , Jeannie. It says so much about who you grandfather was and how much he loved you.
And it makes me wonder what my grandchildren will remember about me.
I have a cardigan of my grandmother’s that I received after she died. Anytime I wear it, I think of her and feel as though her arms are around me.
I love that Terri. Isn’t it cool how we can feel our loved ones presence after they pass? It’s one of God’s mercies.
It’s the words my mom left behind that keep us connected. I came to know her, she passed when I was 16, through her poetry.
What wonderful food for thought. When my father passed away in 2017 there was a certain object my brother had to have of dads. It held a much different meaning for him than for me. My father loved racing fresh veggies and fishing, both loves my brother picked up. The gift and remembrance I have of my father was his teaching me how to accept change as a young adult. He gave me the gift of a positive, encouraging attitude and the ability to roll with the punches and deal with major changes in the workplace. He taught me how to accept people as they are and love them to where Jesus wanted them. And he taught me financial management and responsibility. I watched him as he chaired my church’s finance committee when I was in high school. He taught young seminary student pastors we had how to work within a budget. Many Sunday’s and Wednesday’s these young pastor’s feet were under our dinner table as the family feed them. Dad always made sure they had enough money for their tuition, books, rent, and gasoline. I remember when he called us together my junior year in high school and said we were canceling a trip because the parsonage needed a new HVAC and we could care for our young pastor, his wife, and two small kids. He said they were getting the new unit in the morning and DO NOT brag that our family was paying. He asked for a contribution to the cause from my summer job paycheck. He explained how God would use us to me others needs and how in God’s timing he’d care for us. Turning 70 this tear, I still reflect on the lessons he taught me. I still remember his last words – I love Jesus. I guess that’s the gift he gave me. The love of Jesus and sharing Jesus love with others. Sidebar: I use a cane. I named my cane Virgil, from the old Joan Bae and The Band Song, The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down – Virgil Cane. It’s a family joke with my adult children and my only grandchild. God bless. You made me smile, reflect, have great memories, and remember my blessings today. I shared on Twitter and FB. May God bless your words and use them to change lives.
You father sounds like a wonderful man to emulate. What a great example he was for you! Thanks for sharing your stories. I love the Virgle Cane joke.
Thanks Jimmie. I hope your recent trip was a blast!
Candyce, I love this tribute to your father. His cane is a true treasure to keep for life.
Thank you, Lisa. And I hope my children will hang on to it too.
Candyce, what a wonderful memory you have about your dad. Watching him carve this cane left more than just pictures, but a legacy of what made him the man he was. Thanks for sharing this beautiful story and the lessons it contains.
That is very well-said, Barbara. Thank you.
Loved reading your post and I identified with you and your Dad. My Dad lived to be 97 and walked with a quad cane. We’d walk the mall together- he kept mentally and physically active until 96. Those were some of the sweetest times of my life.
Yes, my dad remained active too, and I’m so thankful. In fact, we have a picture of him standing with his cane in one hand and a leaf blower in the other. Precious memories.
As a woodturner/woodworker, I’ve long marveled at the “old timers” who could whittle and carve such masterpieces as your daddy did. To hold a vision of what something can become and then to patiently work until it becomes all you imagined it could be, is perhaps a tiny glimpse of what God must be like. Perhaps, in a different way, we do that as writers Ms. Candyce. I don’t have a cane, but a walking stick that I often use to walk with around the ranch. Of course, I also took a long piece of bottlebrush bush and made a shoe horn long enough that I don’t have to bend to put my shoes on. 🙂 Loved this post ma’am. When I think of that “significant object”, mine comes from my dad also. It was his initialed-stamp that he used to emboss his letters and checks with. I’ll always remember the lesson he taught me through that about the important of maintaining a good name. God’s blessings ma’am. I want to go stamp something now.
J.D., Your post made me smile and introduced me to a new plant. A bottleneck bush! Who knew?
Your long shoe horn sounds very innovative. My dad hated to spend money so he often rigged up one object or another to help meet a need. He was no doubt more creative than I ever thought him to be.
Maintaining a good name is a great lesson for your dad to leave behind. If you’re anything like me, you didn’t always appreciate your father’s lessons at the time he was teaching them. I thankful we both hold fond memories of our earthly fathers.