STUFF: The Meaning Of Things 301
Michael Prokopow
OCAD University

When I first asked my Dad about an object of importance in our family, I could immediately see the struggle of recall behind his eyes. His effort to come up with something that would encapsulate our family heritage and tell a story was difficult. He lingered for a while, then responded, “We don’t have many family heirlooms,” and here I was, saying to myself, “Great, this is going to be challenging,” with a slight smirk on my face. After further thought, he brought up his Grandfathers medal, which he received after his passing. This medal was awarded to those who participated in the liberation of the Netherlands during WW2 (D-Day). At first, this struck me as a straightforward object, something that might just serve as a reminder of his Grandfather when looked upon, or a pleasant piece of him to have around the house. Little did I know that this conversation would cycle into parts of my Father’s psyche that I had never explored before.

The medal is now displayed in our family home in a glass case, along with a photograph of Irwin in military uniform and a brief explanation of its meaning. To my Father, it has “no utility or function whatsoever” and only “serves as a reminder of him” or, more writerly, it is a “vessel to symbolize our relationship”. This much I would expect from my Dad, he doesn’t really get down with the embodiment of emotion within an object and is undoubtedly not much of a materialistic person; however, upon further conversation, these lines begin to blur. I started the dig with, “If you didn’t have this object, do you believe the memories of your Grandfather would remain at the same level of potency?” He replied immediately with a direct yes. He said, “Nothing would mean any less if I didn’t have it.” While that may be true, I do indeed believe that if we don’t have constant reminders of thoughts and memories, they tend to fade into the background and become much less present in our lives. This medal is displayed directly outside of my parents’ bedroom, so he passes it every morning and every night. I believe here he is understating the importance of having that in the house. He calmly describes it as a “piece of my Grandfather.” To personify an object is an interesting thing; he compared it to how my mother keeps my Grandfather’s ashes on the piano, however, one is quite literally my Grandfather, or the remains of anyway and the object my Father explains, is just something his Grandfather received because he survived the war. The comparison may seem unjust, but I think that medal may very well be the equivalent of the ashes of his Grandfather, whom he never got the chance to have. I asked him wether or not he wishes he had more family heirlooms in his possession and what he said rung true with me, he said, “No. it wouldn’t mean much to me. There wasn’t all that much to hand out. My family growing up was quite poor so why dwell on it? These memories will never die.” The certainty behind this statement was compelling, so much so that it made me begin to wonder what my memories would be like if I had nothing at all to recall them with. It made me question my relationship with objects that hold significance in my life, and how much of a materialistic person I really am. Do I want to live more like my Father? Do I have associative emotions with objects? Does it impact how I remember things? All of these questions came in rapidly.

He describes the object almost hand in hand with the recollection of his Grandfather. In the conversation, the physical description of the object rarely came without some sort of memory connection. The one that stood out most to me was how he mentioned that he gets a strong sense of stability from this medal. Stability? How could one derive something like a balanced emotional state from a single object? Well, by reflection, of course. This medal seemed to strike something within him, bringing out his childhood. He went on to explain how his Grandfather reminded him of their farm in Bonnocord, Alberta and how trips to this farm were his safe haven from his “fucked up, unstable life” at home. He started talking about how he was shuffled around a lot, how his Dad left him at 3 years old, and how he had to fight all the time as a young boy, switching schools every year. This conversation quickly became about something more than a medal. It became a far-reaching look back at how my Father viewed his childhood and the questioning of the people who raised him. This is particularly interesting because the medal itself has absolutely no association with his childhood, yet it can transport him directly to those memories. He said his Grandfather’s farm was about the only place where he felt truly welcomed and loved at that time in his life. He recalls the struggle his Grandparents went through to find and build a life of their own, the values that still ring true in his own life, and, above all, “not to bitch and whine all the time”.

Through this assignment, I have had one of the most eye opening conversations I have ever had with my Father. It gave me insight into his behaviours, why he holds the beliefs he does, and how lucky my brother and I are to have him in our lives. Our processes of growing up are so entirely different, and I have grown ever more appreciative of how my Father raised me and the love, albeit at times certainly tough love, he has shared with our family. It is an incredibly profound thought that all of this realization and connection has come from an object that has no significance or association with these actions at all.

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