Tuesday, July 3, 2012

What's In A Name?

It's so hard to go back to those first hours, but this story needed telling. It's time.
Grandma and Grandpa had just signed over the papers that morning for Kameron to take ownership of MYDARKO, your beloved Donnie Darko Subaru. It seemed the fitting thing to do. I cautiously drove it to Kamerons' and K.C.'s house, so afraid I would get into an accident before arriving. That day, we all sat in their backyard telling Kenna stories with family and friends. I told them about the huge container of cinnamon sticks you purchased the week before. When I asked why we needed such a large jar, you proceeded to tell me the logic behind your choice. "Well, Mama, you could buy the name brand jar in the fancy spice aisle which is very small and very expensive per ounce, or you could go to the ethnic food section and buy this jar, which cost much less for substantially more product. You do the math!" I started to say that maybe we could use them for potpourri or as package ties or in apple cider ...."Okay, Martha Stewart, stop right there!" you interrupted in your exasperated voice.
After you left us just days later, this just seemed so poignantly funny to me as I shared it with our family.
A few minutes later, Kenton asked for a ride to the mall. Kameron said I could take your car. "Oh no!" I said. "You know if I take that car now that it's arrived safely, I will get rear ended as soon as I leave the driveway." No one believed it, of course, but Kameron said I could take their old car instead if I'd rather. And that's what we did.
Kenton and I took off down the driveway, made a right turn, then another right turn, then a left turn. Waiting at the light, I saw a car make a u-turn in the middle of the street and try to come up behind me. He wasn't looking ahead, just behind, and sure enough, he ran right in to the back of the car. Kenton called Kameron and said we had been in an accident. Of course he laughed and didn't believe us because we had been gone for less than five minutes.
Kenton was calm and collected and dealt with the man, who was very apologetic. When he gave Kenton his phone number, Kenton dialed it on his phone and the man's phone rang in his pocket. What a clever brother you have as that was not even on my radar! I, having tried to hold back so many emotions for days, just lost it. Really lost it. I poured out the whole story about you and your death and the cars and our whole life story it appears, in a matter of seconds. This poor young man was without words while this crazy women was babbling and blubbering on the side of the road. After a few minutes, we moved both cars into the lot on the corner and he and Kenton exchanged information while I just sat on the curb in stunned disbelief.
When all was done, we went to leave and I apologized for becoming hysterical. He assured me that I had every right to do so and how sorry he was to have made this tragic time worse by his carelessness. He took all responsibility for the accident.
I finally thought to ask his name.
He reached out his hand to take mine and he said, "Dan. Dan Cinnamon."
"No, it's not!" I insisted loudly and laughed in disbelief. Thinking I misunderstood, he repeated it just the same way. Really? Who has the name Cinnamon? And at that moment, on that hot afternoon, in the incredulous irony of it all, I just sat back down on the curb and started to laugh hysterically. Again, this nice young man didn't know what to do. Kenton was smiling when I finally looked up at him and we both just knew you were still in charge, laughing with us.
If that isn't a Kennasent-in-your-face moment, what is?
It was only the first in what was to be a long line of them for our family and friends.
To be continued.....

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