My mom inquired tonight about a box that had laid unopened for over a week at my house, thinking it was a present for Emma that I was rudely refusing to open. She saw the return address was in Butte, Montana and thought it was someone from my dad’s side of the family. She was sort of right.
The address was my grandparents house but the box was shipped by my dad. The postage was stamped October 24, 2005. That was 25 days after I got the call that my dad’s mom had passed away (I remember because I got the call while I was moving the last of my stuff out of the apartment Ryan and I rented for a year before buying a condo). When we were getting ready to move all of our personal items to Hawaii we found the box in one of the eaves of the attic. Ryan remembered it coming to the house and me saying we had to keep it because it was my “inheritance”. I don’t remember this at all. But I recognized the handwriting and address so I added it to our Hawaii-bound shipment pile.
My mom had peaked my interest so I decided that almost a decade later was time to open the box. And this is what I found. A random jacket from my grandmother and a lei and bouquet made out of ribbons and $1 bills. Color me confused.
I grabbed the jacket and started to carry it to my box of goodwill/donation clothing when I caught a scent I hadn’t smelled in almost 10 years. I smelled my grandma. So I’m going to put it all back in the box and probably wait another 10 years to figure out what to do with that random assortment of junk… Er…. My inheritance.