Family Heirloom

Family Heirloom

It's 9:43 in the morning. I’m sitting in the dining room of my parents’ home in my army fatigues. I've called this place home 18 of my 20 years. That homey feeling will never go away, but the people that lived here did. After burying Mom five years ago, my two brothers and I laid our father to rest last week. Cancer got the best of him.

As I feel myself slouching in my chair, I quickly sit upright, hearing my father's voice in my head. Sit up son, straighten your back!

"Yes sir." I said out loud.

"You said something, Kev?" our family lawyer, Mr. Walter said.

I responded, "No sir."

"Are you sure they're on their way?"

As soon as I began to send an all cap angry text, the front door opened and slammed shut. My brothers Greg and Eric walks in nonchalantly. Greg, the oldest, nodded hello to me while Eric, gave me a brotherly smack behind the head and said, "Whatup baby bro?"

"Hey Eric. Man, what took y’all so long? You know how hard it is to get us all together. Plus, you're holding Mr. Walter up. We're not his only clients you know."

"There goes the family favorite," Greg responded. "You know both our parents are dead now. You don't have to be the teacher's pet to no one no more."

"Really dude?" I said.

"Hey guys,” Eric interrupts. "Chill out! The more y'all two go at it, the longer Mr. Walt is here. Do your thang Walt baby."

Mr. Walter cleared his throat and began to read Dad's will. Dad didn't have much as far as valuable things. Most of the things he left behind were sentimental items, things he collected throughout the years.

“To my son Kevin,” Mr. Walter reads “I leave behind my set of golf clubs.” A huge smile came across my face.

“Figures,” Eric mumbled under his breath.

They're hardly worth anything, I thought to myself. Even if they were, I wouldn’t sell them. Every time Dad took me to play golf, we used these clubs. Greg and Eric didn't play. They said it was a white man's game. I loved it and loved spending that time with Dad.

Mr. Walter continued reading, “To my son Gregory, I leave behind my 1970 Impala.” Eric burst into laughter.

"Does that thing even work?" He said. Dad had that car since before I was born. He and Greg started working on it about four years ago and suddenly, they just stopped.

Greg stares angrily and Eric and takes a deep breath. "Keep reading Mr. Walter, you haven't got all day, right?"

“To my son Eric, I leave all my fishing equipment,” Mr. Walter continued.

"DO NOT PAWN THOSE," I quickly cut in.

"Why not?" Eric said. "It’s not like he's here to go with me."

"You went fishing with him like two times," Greg argued. "Besides, that's something you can finally do with your own son."

"I tell ya what Greg. Call his mother and tell her let me see him and I'll make sure to take him fishing."

Mr. Walter impatiently cleared his throat and continued to read. After 25 minutes of reading through the will, he finally got to the last page. But before he could read it, Greg interrupted, “Wait. That’s it?

Mr. Walter looks back through previous pages to make sure he didn't miss anything.

'What about the house?” asked Greg. "Surely there's something in there about the house."

"No Greg, I don't see anything about the house," Mr. Walter tiredly replied.

"So who's gonna cover the mortgage? Neither one of us can afford it so the best thing to do is sell it,” Greg continued.

I quickly responded, "We're not selling Mom and Dad's house. Man, we grew up in this house."

"So you're gonna pay the mortgage then? I can’t wait to see how you're gonna do that."

"Greg, we can split it three ways until we figure out what to do," I responded.

"Man, y'all know I can't afford that," Eric said. "Child support is kicking my butt."

"Kev, let's just go to the bank tomorrow and see what we can do," adds Greg.

I responded, "Sure but we are not selling."

Mr. Walter cleared his throat once again and started to read the last page. “One final thing, boys. I know y'all were thinking those were the only things I had but the truth is there's more. I have three more things that are worth a little more than what you just received. I didn't pick who will get what. So, my final request is for you boys to figure out who gets what. I love you and I know you will make the right decisions. Love, Dad.”

The three of us exchanged looks of confusion. None of us knew dad had anything that was valuable. We watched anxiously as Mr. Walter pulled out a metal box from underneath the table. He opened it up and pulled out a small black notebook. The pages were trimmed with gold with a slim red ribbon hanging halfway in the book. He raised it in the air and started to read off a paper in his other hand.

“First thing is my diary . . .”

"PASS!" Greg interrupted.

Eric chuckled under his breath and said, "I’ll pass too on that."

Mr. Walter cleared his throat once more and kept on reading. “First thing is my diary. In here, you will find valuable information and the knowledge that helped me become the man I was. Hopefully it will do the same for you.”

Greg put his head down, ignoring everyone in the room. I heard Eric's phone vibrate like he was getting a call. I wasn’t sure if he intentionally made it ring, but he sure answered like it was something important.

"I'll take it," I said. Mr. Walter gave a nod and small smirk as if he already knew I would take it. The truth was I actually wanted it and was hoping my brothers didn't take it. If the stuff in his diary made him the man he was, that was alright with me.

Mr. Walter continued, “Next thing I have is the key to my safe deposit box at the bank. Inside is . . ."

“I'LL TAKE THAT,” Eric yelled out before Greg could even say a word.

Mr. Walter sighed, but kept reading, “Inside the box is $3000. My only advice would be to save it or invest.”

"Invest? Ha! That's funny," Eric said as he grabbed the key out of Mr. Walter's hand and quickly ran out the house without saying a word.

Mr. Walter continued to read, “Finally, I have my one and only Rolex your mom gave me for our last anniversary together. Keep this in the family . . .” Greg grabs the watch, interrupting Mr. Walter and examines it.

"Hmm, I probably can get about eight grand for this,” he said to himself. I just shook my head in disappointment. He caught my look disappointment and said, “Oh, shut up. Don’t judge me. Enjoy your book.” He got up laughing still laughing at his own joke and walked out. All I could do was smile and shrug at Mr. Walter.

"Let me help you Mr. Walter," I said as he started to pack up his belongings. We held small talk as I walked him to the door. Right before he left, he stopped and said, "You know what son, you were always my favorite. Don't tell your brothers." He smiled and left.

I locked the door behind him and turned around to the dimly lit house. All of a sudden, It hit me that I would never see him sitting in his favorite chair again. I would never see him barbecuing in the backyard again. Sadly, I walked over and sat in that favorite chair. I pulled out the notebook and began reading the first page. In the top right corner, it said 1639. It was the date that my first ancestor arrived on a slave ship. He only had a first name, Jedediah, which also happened to be my dad's middle name. Immediately, I was hooked and couldn’t wait to read more.

It was all about how tough it was, how he survived. “Survive what?” I thought to myself. “What was tough? Jedidiah’s journey or life as a slave?” I kept reading. He met a woman named Gertie. I assumed that was my REALLY great grandmother.

A few pages further had a date of 1863. It was about another great grandfather that joined the Civil War. I was amazed as I realized I had a relative that fought in every U.S. war. My grandfather marched with Dr. King in Selma. My dad was in the Iraq war. This wasn’t just his diary but the whole family’s.

I turned to the back and noticed there were still a lot of blank pages left. I was shocked and confused when I realized the last one had my name on it. My other brothers' names weren't in it, only mine. Under my name was a message from Dad. It reads:

Kevin,

I knew you were going to be the one reading this. Your brothers don't know that knowledge is more valuable than anything. I tried so hard with those boys.

About six months after your mom died, I was diagnosed with cancer. At the time, the doctor told me I would have six to eight months to live. Y'all had just buried your mama and I couldn't bring more bad news on y'all. So, I kept it to myself. Thinking I only had a short time left, I tried to spend as much time as I could with each of you. I started fixing my dream car with Greg, but his work got in the way and he stopped coming. I tried going fishing with Eric, but he couldn't leave those women alone for one second. But you, you never told me no and you always made time. What you didn’t know was that our family has a huge history of serving in the armed services. You only knew I served in the army. When you told me you wanted to join the military, I was so proud. That let me know right there that you were the one that was would carry the family name on proudly and pass this notebook down to your kids. Just like my dad did with me and his dad did with him. This is little black book has been in the family for years.

There's one final request I ask of you. Grab a hammer. Go to the staircase and pry open the top step. I love you and remember, keep the family tradition going.

Dad

I had so much emotions going through my head after reading that. I had to see what was under the stairs though. So, I ran to the garage and grabbed a hammer. Once I got upstairs, I knocked open the top step. My jaw dropped when I saw what was inside. It was the deed to the family home and $20,000 cash!