My Legacy (Extended Addition)

Driving down the old familiar road, I gripped the steering wheel and tried to keep my mind from wandering. The cold fog from a week ago had seemingly turned into a thick and heavy could that hung over the road as I drove. When I arrived, My sister was already there waiting for me inside. I Silently entered, my eyes unable to meet hers so I started at the steps instead.

“Are you sure you're ready?” My sister inquired as we climbed the steps.

“Of course.” I said “Besides, it's been over a week since the funeral, and who knows how long this stuff has been sitting up here.”

“I know, but you haven't really been acting like yourself since-”

“Michelle, I'm fine.” I interrupted “Look, someone needs to do this, and I'm not going to let it all sit here to rot.”

Michelle went silent. The typical silence she left me in when she had more to say, but felt I couldn't be reasoned with. The attic door creaked as we entered. The dim light from outside the dusty old windows was all we had to see. Not that it mattered, there was enough dust in the air to make it appear as tho a thick fog had settled inside the room. My Grandmother's attic had been left locked and untouched for a matter of years after we moved out. Though from the look of it, you'd probably think it had been left untouched for far longer. Once lovely frilled, crisp white curtains that used to give a sense of warmth and protection were now a dingy gray from the dust and age. The windows, all grimy and tinted gave almost a gray and heavy sensation. Corners caked in dirt and dust, with cobwebs hanging from place to place, and enough dust in the air to make you turn your head and cough just by opening the door. Fastening our masks, and snapping the gloves on our hands, we swiftly got to work. We began digging through our Grandmother's things, attempting to find anything (that hadn't been ruined by age or mold) to salvage. Taking a look inside the first box, I feel a strange sense of nostalgia and wonder wash over me. Inside contained old childhood toys, drawings, and stories. Our Grandmother was one of those people that never grew up which made her get along with us pretty well. She would often crack jokes, pull pranks, and pout when things didn't go her way. After our parents passed when we were young, Grandma took us in and raised us as her own. We knew she wasn't our real mother, but that didn't stop her from being motherly and nurturing.

She was a kind old lady, 'A friend to many' as Grandpa would say. She somehow managed to get along with kids of all ages, and even befriended some of the old grouches in the neighborhood. Despite this, she wasn't one of those people that could be tricked or taken advantage of. She was sharp, and shockingly stern at times. She could make people lose their voice, and end any argument just from shooting a look. She was also pretty spry for an old gal. She'd often play catch, hide n' seek, and various other games with us. Her favorite of all these though, were treasure hunts, especially as she grew older. No matter our age or maturity, she always enjoyed making treasure hunts for us, and each reward was always worth it. She'd hide toys, money, gift cards, little chocolate coins, and always made it a challenge for us. We'd happily search for clues and dig around in the yard, while Grandma would sit on the porch and smile as she watched.

“Dylan!” Michelle yelled, snapping me out of my own thoughts “I could use some help over here, could you give me a hand?”

Looking over I saw the box she was trying to lift. A large wooden box filled with lamps, various decorations and picture frames. I complied, nodding and grabbing one end of the box. As we descended the steps I couldn't help but notice a look of concern on Michelle's face.

“Everything alright sis?” I asked as we set the box down for a moment.

“I'm worried about you Dylan.” Michelle said “You say you're fine, and I know you and I aren't exactly all that close, but you aren't acting like yourself at all. We've always been less emotional that others, but the way you're acting, it's like you've gone completely numb!”

Was I numb? I guess I had been too busy to notice how I was feeling. With the financial issues, and looking at a possible divorce, I had been too busy to really stop and take it all in. My sister was right though. I hadn't slept too well in weeks, and had been working non-stop. Now that I had finally stopped to think about it, I really didn't feel anything then. Sure my sister and I weren't exactly the emotional type, but even she broke down at our Grandmother's funeral. I on the other hand, couldn't remember much of it, like I had been sleepwalking the entire time it went on. Still, I figured maybe it just didn't affect me the same way because I wasn't as close with her as I'd once been.

“I'm alright sis really.” I said trying to ease her mind “Now come on, let's finish with the attic.”

“Okay....” Michelle said doubtful.

We worked all throughout the day. Cleaning out all the dust, washing the windows and curtains, and moving everything out of the attic. Looking through old movies, stories, and photos brought back old memories. Unfinished projects we had done with her, and all the silly memories that came back just by picking them up. It surprised me to realize that despite this, I felt nothing. Like everything was being kept under an icy surface that couldn't be broken through. Michelle's words rang in my head like a highlighted clue. I thought back for a moment trying to think of the last time I actually felt something. I remember getting a phone call from our worried Grandmother shortly after my wife started talking about divorce... Michelle had called her up, worried about me and asked for help. And then.... the fight happened.... In hurt, and bitter rage I took all my frustration out on Michelle. I don't even remember all of what was said, blind anger had taken over, and words came out faster than I bothered to think of them. All I remember was a small sniffle, then silence before Michelle hung up on me. The emotion that I felt there in that moment..... pain, betrayal, bitterness, regret and shame. I didn't call or speak to either of them after that, and Michelle never called again either. My Grandmother attempted to reach out a few times, but to no avail. She'd leave voice messages, which I'd delete without bothering to open first. Those next few months following, weren't any better. I kept telling myself I'd call her back, or even visit once my work was done. But the work was seemingly never-ending, and any thoughts of her or Michelle being a priority were quickly forgotten. I shook those thoughts from my head, attempting to focus on the task before me.

Michelle went downstairs after a bit to take a break and regather herself. I let her go in silence and continued going through inventory. Picking up an old glass case, I found myself staring at the medal of honor and distinguished service cross inside. I had nearly forgotten our Grandmother was a veteran, though she didn't talk about the war nearly as much as Grandpa. That was how she and our Grandfather met. According to her, they were both serving in the military and had become shockingly good friends. They both vowed that if they survived the war, they'd marry and settle down together.

I think maybe that was part of the reason why this house gave such a sense of safety. I continued going through the box and found an old photo album. I couldn't help but smile as I flipped through the album of their memories. From black and white photos of them and their military group to their victory celebration and even their wedding. It surprised me to find some photos of our parents with us in there too. I closed the album and shook away the painful memories. I continued for awhile until Michelle called me down for lunch. We sat and ate in silence as her eyes refused to meet mine. I attempted to apologize and make amends, but the words wouldn't come out. I sighed and stared through the floor.

“Has anything gotten better for you?” Michelle asked quietly sipping her drink.

“I wish.” I scoffed “I don't think there's much anything can be done about it at this point.”

Michelle went silent, unable to meet my eyes, she began staring a hole through her plate.

After a moment she said “I don't hold it against you.”

“What?” I asked.

“That night.” she said “I know you didn't mean any of it. You were just hurt and angry.” she explained.

“That isn't really an excuse-”

“I know.” Michelle interrupted “But I'd rather not remain so distant any longer than we already have. So can we just, leave it all in the past and go back to how we were before?”

“Sure.” I sighed, then excusing myself from the table.

Michelle seemed a bit relieved as I left, and continued eating in silence.

The last things were all the paintings. One of which was big and heavy enough I nearly dropped it attempting to pick it up. I then brushed my hand up against something strange attached to the back of it. I set it down and began tugging on whatever was attached to the back of the painting. After a couple tugs, it finally gave way and out I pulled a familiar little black book made of leather. I gazed at it for a moment trying to place where I had seen it.

“Dylan, you're not slacking off again are you?” My sister said peering in from the doorway.

“I'm only resting for a moment.” I said “This one's kinda awkward.”

“Well then let me give you a hand.” Michelle said grabbing one end.

Once we reached the living room and set the painting down I pulled out the book and began to read in curiosity. I nearly froze in place as I read what was inside.

“What do you have there?” Michelle asked peering over my shoulder.

“Michelle read this.” I said handing her the book.

She began reading silently and excitedly, her face turned to shock as she said “She set one up....for us?”

It was true. Our Grandmother had set up one last treasure hunt for the both of us stating in the book “Even if you aren't kids anymore, I think you'll like what you find inside.”

According to what she wrote, there would only be 3 clues this time as apposed to her normal 5, and first clue was located in 'a place of memories.' Michelle and I looked at each other, as a childlike curiosity awakened in us both and we nodded then going on our Grandmother's last treasure hunt. It was as though we had been taken back to those old times, when life was much simpler. Despite the challenge, we found the place where she'd hidden our prize and hurriedly dug it up wondering what would be waiting for us. We found a little black box. Opening it in wonder and curiosity we found two checks to 'Dylan Brooks' and 'Michelle Brooks' each for 20,000 dollars. Among the checks we found a time capsule, and a music box she used to play for us when we were young. Then, there was a note. The note inside read:

“Dear Dylan and Michelle

I've watched you both grow into such fine young adults over the years. You two have grown so much and made me so very proud. And I'm sure if your parents were here, they'd be proud of you too. As much as I'd love to stick with you kids and be there forever, I can feel my bones growing tired as each day passes. And as much as I want to hold your little hands forever, I know you'll be just fine on your own. I've watched you two weather the weather and stick together through it all. In recent months I've heard your calls of anger, confusion, and worry on the phone. I know you both have gone through such hard times, and I wish I could do so much more for you, but I can't even get out of bed to come visit anymore. That's why, I leave this to you. 20,000$ each to you, and Michelle, that old piano you two loved so much, my little book of memories, and this small box in my final treasure hunt for you two. These are my gifts to you my dears, but don't worry, I'll always be with you two. Cheering you on, shielding you from danger, and watching you both take on the world together from the clouds. That's where I'll be. This isn't goodbye, but until we meet again.... Stick together you two. You're an unbeatable team even the rough times this world throws at us can't shake. I know you two will be alright, and I'm proud to have been your Grandma for the time I've spent here.

Thank you, for making my life so very special.

~ Love Grandma.”

I felt something inside me shatter as I read the note. Hot tears began to form in my eyes as I laughed. I collapsed to my knees and began sobbing as worlds of emotions came pouring out all at once. And yet, I felt at peace. I felt relieved. So much was still going on and yet, I felt safe. Hugging Michelle, we both cried and looked into the clouds. We could feel her smiling down at us, embracing us with a hug of her own. And as we left the house that day, I looked at our Grandmother's house one last time and said “Thank you. Goodbye, Grandma.”

Then closing the door and taking off. The road looked much brighter now, and I felt the heavy clouds from before fading away like a bad dream. As I got home, I nearly hesitated to open the door, wondering what to do about my wife, and about our debt. To my surprise, my wife was cheerful and gave me a hug as I entered.

“I'm sorry.” she said “I know we've fought a lot for the past few months. We were both stressed, I didn't-”

“It's alright.” I said perplexed “But where is all of this coming from?”

My wife explained she had gotten a phone call earlier that day stating that our debt had been paid off, as had the mortgage. When asked who paid it off she explained the person was anonymous same as a little black book she'd received recently. The little black book she received contained rules and guidelines for establishing a healthy marriage, and fixing broken ones. Along with a heartfelt note encouraging her on the first page. I asked to see the book and took a look at it. A black leather book, same as the one Michelle and I found in our Grandmother's house. Opening the book I recognized my Grandmother's and Grandfather's handwriting immediately. A book filled with little stories, notes they took, and advice from experience. I smiled as I looked at it, and embraced my wife with a hug. We both wept in relief. Finally we could begin to recover from the horrible nightmare we'd had over the past 5 months.

I met up with Michelle the following week, my wife came along too. We all spoke cheerfully, and the other two got to know each other a bit. I'm not sure how, but somehow the topic came up of our Grandmother. Michelle explained that after we had each gone home that day, her boyfriend handed her an envelope from an anonymous writer that wished her an early Happy Birthday.

“I nearly wept when I saw the handwriting.” she said.

“Yeah, we both know all about that.” I smiled looking to my wife beside me.

In that one moment, I felt something warm, and heard someone whisper “We're proud of you.”

The voice sounded so familiar. But who was it? I know it wasn't my grandmother's voice, but hearing it made me feel overwhelmingly warm and light inside. I look over to Michelle and could tell we had each felt the same thing. We all grew much closer that day, and I even got to meet my sister's mystery boyfriend. And when the day finally ended, we all went to sleep, relieved and uplifted.