My grandmother was a shrewd woman. She drank gin all day and kept Rolaids between the couch cushions for her constant heartburn, and she had strong opinions — about politics, about taxes, about us doing well in school. She paid me for straight As and after dinner she’d get all the grownups together so she could hold court and talk about her Southern Democrats. My grandfather, the retired diplomat, would sit quietly in the other green armchair in his seersucker suit, and he’d smile at us grandkids while Grandma opined.
Grandma had lots of thoughts about lots of things, and one of those things was taxes. She had a large estate as she grew older, including several waterfront properties on St. Simons Island, Georgia. Properties she paid $10K for and were worth upwards of $500K when she saw her end coming near.
She was ready to go as early as her 70s. She lived a full life around the world as the wife of a diplomat. Her sons were grown and had their own families, and she was proud, and she was done. She was ready to Go to her Reward.
Grandma put her sons on her property deeds before she died so that they wouldn’t have to pay estate taxes on them, she put us grandkids as joint owners on her stock certificates for the same reason, and every time we’d come over, even when I was just a kid, she’d say, “If there’s anything you want, let me know. I’ll put your name on it and you can have it when I’m gone.”
Going around her house, I liked to inspect things things. I’d check the back of an oil painting and see my uncle’s name, “Rob.” Lift one of the heavy glass seagulls and on the base see my dad’s name, “Henry.” I chose a round end table with a drawer, and I remember every time I went to her house after that, I’d pull the drawer open and see a narrow slip of paper in there, barely wider than the piece of clear tape that secured it. In my grandmother’s handwriting, shaky from her old age, I saw my name, “ANDREA.”
I left the slip in there after she was gone. Every few months, I’d open the drawer, just to see my name, in Grandma’s blue ink, and I’d smile.
For the month of April, I will be publishing a 10-minute free write each day, initiated by a prompt from my prompt box. Minimal editing. No story. Just thoughts spilling onto the page. Trying to get back into the writing habit.
Butterfly Mind 
Lovely!
LikeLike
Loved this post!
LikeLike
A grandmother’s love. Priceless.
LikeLike
I want to hear more about your grandma. She sounds cool!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Haha! She was a character 🙂 I’ve written about her here – mostly about her gin ( #, # ).
LikeLike
Those were great! I could read these all day.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I love this, Andrea. After my grandma died, a lot of her furniture came into our house, but never the coffee table with my sister’s teeth marks on them (she was 5, I was 3–I don’t know what exactly happened, but we would always check to see if the teeth marks were still there every time we visited).
LikeLike
A lovely story which brought tears to my eyes as I had a grandmother like yours (minus the gin, she was a teetotaler, b 1875, Jackson County, Alabama). I have a cabinet and a few of her things left. Now I just turned 70 and I am saying to children and grandchildren and friends, “Put your name on it if you want it.” We come full circle in this life.
Thank you.
LikeLike
this gave me a smile as well. thank you!
LikeLike
I loved this story and I adore your grandmother’s spirit. My mother did the same though she had very little. It was all decided before she left who would get what. So easy that way. The idea a 10 min memoirs is a wonderful way to write about memories.
LikeLike
My mother did the same, just like InSearchofItAll’s mother and your grandmother. Some things were assigned to go to whomever with her before she left, but others she labeled with a little note about its significance for us to find afterward.
LikeLike
I love the small, precise details you share about your Grandma. In a brief piece of writing, you share so much about her.
LikeLike
You have a gift, not just writing, but in seeing the good in people.
LikeLike
Beautiful writing. I can almost picture your grandma and the feeling opening that drawer must have given you. I also need to get into writing.
LikeLike
I loved this piece. It reminds me of a time when I told my mother about a friend whose mother had labeled her household with her children’s names. My mother repeated the story about the names in front of my ten year old niece. For months after that, my mother found objects that my niece had labeled with her own name.
LikeLike
I love this – reminds me of my fabulous Grandmother 🙂
LikeLike