A grandmother's guide to being prepared

Today is the first day of my last year of college. I should be happy to get out of here and move on with my life, but graduating terrifies me. How is my music degree going to be worth the student debt I’ve accumulated? Maybe my Music Career Development course this semester will help me figure that out. My other class - World Music: Africa, the Middle East and the Americas - definitely will not.

I’ll probably need two or three jobs at once to pay off my loans. And forget a Master’s degree - I’m not going to sign up for new debt, while I still have at least $20,000 of old debt. My final tab would have been less, but when I went to fill out my FAFSA this year, I was no longer eligible for the same amount of financial aid.

I miss Nana. She and I talked a lot about money, and she knew how stressed I was about my loans. She didn’t have much money of her own, but she always made me feel less worried.

“Everything will be fine, Mija. Let go of your susto,” she would say with such confidence I sometimes thought she could predict the future. Most of the time she was right and everything turned out okay.

She raised me and was my true best friend because she made everything fun, the only real measure for a kid. She taught me how to make macaroni and cheese (from the blue box) and scrambled eggs, and when I was in the third grade, she helped me correct my multiplication flash cards. She taught me the importance of red lipstick and that the proper way to drink coffee was in a big mug that had more sugar and milk than coffee. She also taught me the importance of being prepared.

“A woman ill-prepared is set up for failure,” Nana would say.

“Prepared for what?” I would ask.

“For anything,” she’d respond. “A woman should always have red lipstick, a pen and a notebook in her purse.”

I never understood why those three things were so important, but I trusted her. We’d be at the store or on the bus or in the popcorn line at the movie theater and she’d pull out her little black Moleskine to write something down. I always thought it was the same notebook that never ran out of pages, but I never bothered to ask what she scribbled.

What I would give to get my hands on those notebooks now. Just to be able to touch something she touched, to read something she wrote.

When the cancer got really bad and we knew that she wouldn’t pull through, my tio became her power of attorney. At first I thought that was a bad idea, he had always been terrible with money. But then, from what I could tell, he used her money to cover important things like groceries, medical bills, in-house nurses and any necessary repairs to her house.

While she was sick. I would spend every Saturday at home by her side, sometimes reading, laughing or crying. Or all three. Looking back, the days filled with all three were the most memorable.

“Soon the money is going to run out,” tio would say, running his hands through his thinning hair. And I’d actually feel bad for him, because of the financial situation that he had been so determined to control and his disappearing hairline.

When she died, he inherited everything - her supposedly-diminishing savings account and the house. After the funeral, he asked me to move out so he could sell it, but once I was gone he just moved in. Tio immediately bought a brand new car and then took a trip to Australia. That’s when I realized the money never ran out, not even close. He probably made her think there was less money than what she actually had, and slowly had me written out of the will.

I know it’s not what she wanted. How dare he manipulate her when she was too sick and vulnerable to know what she was doing! Thinking about the whole thing makes me so mad! Which, of course, is pointless because I can’t prove anything.

At least my classes today were not too painful, but since it’s only one day into the semester, I could probably press pause on school. It would give me some time to figure things out and I could get a full time job for a couple of months. Then I could go back to school later and pay for my last year out of pocket. That would cut my student loans down a lot, but I’ll think about it later. Right now, I’m just happy to be home - I need food and a nap.

Walking up to the front door of my friend’s apartment, where I’m currently crashing, I hear an unfamiliar voice call my name.

“Are you Ms. Amy Dempsey?” the voice says.

I see a gray suit walking toward me, but before I can answer he says, “I’m Van Staley, your grandmother’s estate attorney.”

“The one who helped my uncle write me out of her will?” I respond.

Ignoring my insolence, he hands me a single manila envelope. “She asked me to make sure you got this.”

Without a word, I take the envelope and walk into the apartment. I close the door behind me, throw my bag on the floor and sit at the dinner table. I’ve never been good at opening envelopes and this one is no exception. I practically tear it in half, and am relieved to see I didn’t just rip up a bunch of important documents. Instead, I see a small black Moleskine notebook and a pen hooked on the front cover. With trembling fingers, I open the front flap and gaze at what I’ve been longing to see for months - her handwriting.

Hi Mija,

If you’re reading this, and everything was done according to my wishes, then the funeral and reading of my will are done. That means that up until now, I had not left anything to you. I’m sorry if that hurt you, but you didn’t really think I would leave you out, did you? :)

It took some estucia, but before your tio took over as my power of attorney, I opened a separate bank account and put some money in it. I transferred money to it when I thought he wouldn’t notice the withdrawal.

Soy lista, ¿verdad?

It’s not much, and I won’t tell you how to use it, but make sure it’s on something good! And don't be mad at your tio. He’s not a bad person, he just needs to pay his debts. Hay Dios! He has so many.

Speaking of debt, your fall semester must have already started. I imagine it is hard to focus on school right now, but it is important that you keep going. Every “A” you earn puts you closer to graduation. I’m looking forward to that, even though I cannot attend in person.

Lastly, I know you never listened to me about always having una libreta in your purse, so here is one to get you started. It will come in handy, you’ll see. My apologies for using so many pages - these are muy pequeno.

I should go now, Mija. I have always loved you so much, and I will always be by your side, just like you were at mine.

-Nana

I couldn’t decide if this was really happening. I flipped the page to find a small envelope with a Mastercard, a sticky note with a pin number written on it and an account balance sheet.

She kept it hidden from my tio and had left me $20,000, the exact amount of student loan debt I have.

Astucia, ¡verdad!

A Readers Guide to Spanglish

Nana: Grandma

Mija: My daughter

Susto: Fear

Tio: Uncle

Astucia: Trickery, craftiness

Soy lista, ¿verdad?: I’m smart, right?

Hay Dios!: Oh, God!

Una libreta: A notebook

Muy pequeno: Very small