You could always find a package of Chiclets in my Grandpa’s shirt pocket. He chewed them all the time. I think he got hooked when he gave up smoking decades before I was born. He would carefully pop them through the foil wrapper and dole out one to each of us grandkids. We’d pretty much eat the entire pack. Counting my cousin, there were six of us within 7 years of each other. I was the first-born in the family, leading off a pack of 4 girls. My little brother was the youngest, he rounded out the two boys.
Eventually we’d all get tired of our gum and hit up my Grandma for a treat. She would reach into the freezer and bring out the cellophane brick of Klondike Bars. We’d each get one and carefully peel back the wrapper, using it as a foil napkin to hold any melting chocolate coating or vanilla ice cream that might try to escape. Klondike Bars are so tasty!
Klondike Bars have evolved since my days as a kid. In addition to the original vanilla ice cream square covered with milk chocolate, you can get flavors such as Oreo, Heath, and Caramel. Grandma was kind of like the Klondike Bar. She was different things to different people. To some, she was critical, to others she was kind. It doesn’t matter which variety I bring home, they all remind me of her and LOVE. When I have a Klondike Bar, I’m reminded of how one person can be both perfect and flawed at the same time.
So before I start my self-imposed, self discovery assignments, I have a Klondike Bar. The commercial jingle goes, “What would you do for a Klondike Bar?” In my mind, it should be “What will you do after having a Klondike Bar?”
My answer? I will be more forgiving to myself and others because we all have many layers. We’re all perfect and flawed. We’re human. And there just may be a Klondike Bar waiting in the freezer…