Grandma's Gift

I was exhausted. My kids were exhausted. It was a stifling four-hour bus ride, and we were hot and sticky. The walk from the bus stop to the familiar rusty gate took only 5 minutes yet seemed so much longer. The gate that stood before us was small, weathered and hanging off the hinges, much like I was feeling right now. The kids were hungry, tired and in no mood to walk down what I knew was a 500-meter driveway.

“Where is the house mummy”

“Just beyond the trees, we are almost there”. I lied

The view was as breathtaking as it was soul destroying, the house was dilapidated, but its character and charm enhanced by the fiery sunset. A laneway of Jacarandas lined the path from the rickety gate. The purple hues magically paving the way to what, unbeknownst to me at the time would be our new home. It was in a state of disarray and guilt immediately overwhelmed me knowing that my grandmother was here alone trying to manage the property. I tried to recollect my visits as a child, but the vista before me clouded what I remembered to be happy moments with my Nana and pop.

Walking up the driveway I could smell the Jasmine that had covered the fence. The sound of crickets drowned out my thoughts and I allowed myself to be transported to 1985 when life seemed simpler and the yards manicured. The fields beyond were carpeted with the lush green grass I used to lay in, to gaze at the sky, and the dairy cows bellowed in response when my pop called for them to return to the barn. Pop was unique that way, he treated those animals like they were family and he made sure that they had shelter from the harsh Australian sun.

The Barn was wooden, unlike the tin sheds that were prevalent. The wood doesn’t hold the heat like the tin he explained to me, so it’s more comfortable for the animals.

Pop died a year later, and it was Nan on her own. It completely broke Nan, having lost my mum when I was 2 and now Pop, I was the only living family she had, that was before my kids came along.

The kids had reached the rundown verandah before me and were sitting waiting patiently, parched, and tired. I found the key under the pot where it usually lay. As I pushed against the heavy door I was transported back in time. I could hear the tick, tock of the clock. It mesmerized me, and I could still smell her recognizing the lavender scent as I scanned the sparse room. The furniture was the same as I remembered, and the only meagre possessions were her prized Owl’s sitting in the glass bookcase. The owl is a mystical magical creature I remember her telling me. It saved my life she used to recount. I had never seen one myself, but her story was so vivid it was almost as if I had.

I gave the kids the last 2 sandwiches, lied that I wasn’t hungry, gave them a cold bath and let them sleep in the same room I used to sleep in as a little girl.

I filled myself a glass of water and went to sit on the verandah. The slight breeze gently caressed my skin, while its peaceful music billowed through the Jacarandas, swaying the blooms into a trance like movement. The crickets singing lulled me into a deep slumber only to be woken by the fluttering of wings, a wide span of wings, its silhouette in the night sky….it must be a bat I told myself, so I ran inside. I laid my head on Nan’s pillow for a second only to be woken up by the kids seeking breakfast.

The fridge was empty and not turned on. I would need to drive into town to purchase some groceries. I prayed had that Nan’s car was working. I took a chance that her tin with emergency money was still under the floorboards, under the woollen rug that Pop had brought back from Egypt. We were never allowed to step onto it so it looked as new as they days I remember it. the red ochre color enhanced by indigo slightly tainted by the dust. I lifted the corner and saw the familiar latch. My heart stopped for a second as I lifted the board to find the faded Rosella on the dented Arnott’s tin and there it was. $1327.55 rattled inside much to my delight. ‘Thanks Nan’ I whispered, you saved me again

“Let’s go on an adventure I coaxed the kids.

The rumble of the engine ignition turning gave me a sense of hope. It was running. The fuel gauge indicated that the tank was half full. This would get me into town at least 3 times.

Let’s go kids I yelled, and we left for town looking for food and adventure.

The town was more cosmopolitan than I remembered, the boutique stores attracted the big city folks, looking for charm and quiet. I was one of those city folks but without the means to search through those quaint stores that lined the main street.

I parked in front of the local supermarket to purchase the basics, plus some bacon and eggs. It was a while since we had eaten such a hearty breakfast.

“Mum, can we sit in that café? asked Lucinda…. “of course” I relented, secretly wanting to enjoy not having to prepare a meal and experience being waited on. For that morning, we were a family not wanting for anything, enjoying each other’s company and for a moment in time`felt carefree.

With our tummy’s full and the kids in an adventurous spirit, we drove to the beach let the water chase us. I gave in first and sat down toes in sand as I watched the kids engage with the waves splashing onto shore. I was the luckiest mum alive with those two. They were mature for 10 and 8, but the loss they have seen in their very short time on this earth has forced them to grow up quickly. They were my motivation. My guiding stars to want more, search for more….

Come on kids, we’d better get a move on before the groceries go off. Even though I had those insulated bags and ice blocks, I wasn’t sure that it was enough on such a warm day.

Back at the house, after unpacking the groceries, I started to look around the house. It was neat and compact. It needed a good paint job and some exterior repairs. The land was unkempt, although you could see the garden was like an old woman who had let herself go, but if you looked into her eyes and recognized her soul, you would have seen the beauty that she once was.

I didn’t know how I would manage such a property with little income. I would have to go back to work soon and commuting from the city to a small rural coastal town was going to prove costly. I would have to sell. I couldn’t see any feasible way that I could manage it on my own with 2 kids. I searched for more paperwork that would give me some indication, information, a sign; but nothing stood out.

I walked towards the barn or the remnants of what used to be a barn. It stood firm, but its body was missing the doors and some of the siding. I looked inside searching for anything that would remind me of the dairy farm this once was, but there was nothing. Feathers lay on the ground; this was a nest for some of our feathered friends. I was glad the building had some use left.

The property was 30 acres, not big for a dairy farm, but Nan had to sell off some of the land to the bigger corporations, it was her regret but an inevitable choice. The remaining acres she would sublet out and gave her the ability to sustain herself in the last years. She was wiry, resourceful, and very frugal and the most loving generous woman a granddaughter could hope for. She died on her own terms. 7.7.07. on her death certificate. There was always a pattern to her, and it was a Saturday. Nan would never inconvenience anyone by dying on a workday or even on the day of rest.

That evening while the kids were playing outside, I heard an unfamiliar sound. I turned my head to the pathway lined with jacarandas and for the first time in my life I see an owl sitting in the middle of the path. For a moment there I was convinced that it was staring directly at me trying to communicate with me. Pete interrupted me and by then the owl had flown away. I recognized its wingspan from the other night. The Owl had welcomed me even then.

I felt comfortable here, peaceful. The kids seemed freer. The air was sweeter, and I felt connected to the land like I belonged. How was I going to manage this? The court case had drained me in every way, emotionally and financially. I simply didn’t want my kids to be forced to visit such an unstable man. I fought for my kids like Nan fought for me from my father. I didn’t choose my children’s father well and we all felt the consequences of that. Pete and Lucinda feared their father but like any child craved his attention. If only I could stay.

One day merged into the next, and the appointment with the Trustee of the Nans estate had finally arrived. The news was as I expected, the house and land were mine. The executor had an offer for me. There was a buyer that offered much less than I would have accepted but it would eradicate some of my legal debt and the funeral fees. I could start again but I was always starting again.

Nan, if you can hear me now, help me.

That evening after the kids had already gone to sleep, I laid down on Nan’s bed. I was halfheartedly trying to read a book I had found on the bus those weeks ago. I could hear some fluttering outside the window, so peered out to see the same Owl that had welcomed me earlier. As I tried to take a closer look, I knocked the dresser slightly to see some papers dislodge from the back. Old letters, titles to land and legal letters. Amongst them was an old, tattered leather notebook. My fingers ran over the familiar writing. It contained some recipes, birthdays including mine, and what I gathered was work done on the farm over the years. On the last page a series of numbers, 7, 16, 34, 43, 25, each number totaled 7. There was no indication of what they meant or what it might relate to. I would investigate more tomorrow. The notebook inspired me, there were ideas in there that might help me generate some income. I would look into these in more detail. The owl was still there, staring intently, aglow by the moonlight, a subtle veil between this world and the one I believed my Nana now lived. She, at least I imagined the owl was a she, was the most beautiful creature, but my movements startled her and she flew into the starry velvet night. That night was the most peaceful I had since I had arrived. Whatever dreams I had that night must have been pleasant as I awoke invigorated and rested like I hadn’t in years. With a renewed sense of hope and faith that anything was possible, I gave thanks to Nan and to the entity that created us all. I decided I would not sell; I did not want to sell. The kids would be happier here and we could build beautiful new memories.

I had a fire in my belly and a sense of purpose. I would research what the farm could provide, and what income it could generate. I went to the local school and enquired about enrolling the kids and the process it would entail moving them before the end of the year. The surrounding farms mostly had dairy cows, but some of the properties were let over the summer as we were close to the beach.

Ideas now started swimming. As a summer holiday let, the home could generate income over the summer. As a winter romantic getaway another. I could use a caravan for the kids and I over this period until we set ourselves up. With the right marketing, it was a sound starting base. The next couple of days had me researching the holiday rental sites. I could fix the house with a good lick of paint and some help from my builder friends. I started making phone calls.

“Mum we’re hungry” yelled the kids coming in from outdoors. I forgot about lunch. I would have to pause for a bit, but I was excited, I now had a purpose.

I would call work and ask them to extend my leave for a couple of weeks, until I sorted things out.

The kids would need to readjust to a new school but having recently lost their father and Nan who acted as their surrogate grandmother, the change would be welcome. They seemed to love it here.

My list of items lengthened, and my anxiety diminished. Now that I had a focus, things started to miraculously fall into place. I received approval to extend my leave and with kids still on school holidays I could focus on setting us up in our new home. Slowly I started gathering the building materials that would make this home regain her youthful splendor. My neighbors remembering my Nan offered to help fix up the barn. Slowly but surely things were starting to aim in the right trajectory.

A normality was setting in and a routine somewhat. I was up at dawn cleaning out the garden beds till 8 and then back in the house making breakfast for the kids, making lists and planning for the future.

One unusually warm August day, whilst we were eating breakfast, there was an unexpected knock on the door. I looked out the window to see a utility van parked in front of the house. I didn’t even hear it come up the driveway. A man stood at the door, “Hello” he chirped, I’m here to fix the roof. Is Francis around?

“No, she passed last month”

“I’m so sorry”. She was a good friend to my wife and I, and I have just come back from holidays. She has organized for me to fix her roof. I’m Brian” he shook my hand and then clasped his other hand on top.

“I am so sorry for your loss; I do remember you as a little girl”

“Thank you, yes I now remember you Mr Robinson but I am so sorry I cannot possibly pay you right now”

“No need, its been paid for. Your grandmother was well loved in our community. I have 7 lads coming today, to help so we will be done in no time. I told her I couldn’t do this before the 16th so she just said come on the 16th then, so here I am. The other lads will be coming soon with the material.

Leave it to us.

So that day, on the 16th of August, 7 lads, fixed the roof on both the house and the barn. That was another item on my list that I no longer had to think of.

The outside of the home was a picturesque haven, A neat cottage filled with charm, set on a mountainside with an ocean vista. I had scoured the antique markets and deceased estates picking up furniture wherever I could, restoring them to a former glory. What I didn’t need I sold. The income was starting to generate. The once rundown verandah was now a beautiful haven on which to leisurely admire the aspiring garden thanks to Mr Robinson. My favorite item was the porch swing, courtesy of one of the deceased estates. Nan had fabric stored near her sewing machine that I used to repurpose the cushions. The swing also doubled as a suspended day bed.

At magic hour the photos would be spectacular for the website, another item to add to the list.

One by one the long list was shortened as I checked off each actioned item, so I decided to drive into town with the kids and have a day out. The weather was glorious, and I was smiling, humming at the peace of it all.

We lunched at the kid’s favorite café, across from the news agency. My favorite moments were watching Lucinda and Pete grow before my eyes. I was fiercely proud of them. Thank you, thank you for them I whispered to I’m not sure who, but thank you.

As I stood at the counter to pay for the meal, I noticed a sign behind the cashier “Help wanted”. It had a picture of an owl with glasses. It was very old fashioned. I tore off the number deciding to call it the following day. It was the school; they needed an administrator. It would be perfect; the hours and the holidays would fit in with the kids. After I was offered the job, I resigned from work and was paid out my leave. That would give me some more money to help with the renovations. On the 25th September 2007 I celebrated my 34th Birthday. The kids helped me make some cupcakes and we drove to the lighthouse to eat them and make our wishes as we all blew out my candles.

One year merged into the next, I continued to work on fixing up the house. Work continued as quickly as the money coming in allowed. The kids enrolled into the new school, and my role there as an administrator gave me time to work around the property before and after school hours. It was hard but I was happy and grateful every day for the home that I lived in and the surroundings in which the home was in.

In the blink of an eye my Nan’s 1 year anniversary arrived. I wasn’t quite ready to have people over in July so a few weeks later on Saturday 2nd August 2008 when the Ranunculi and roses were in bloom 43 people from the community arrived honoring Nan. As I anticipated the large number, I decided to set up the barn with tables and chairs, adorned with the blooms from her garden. I picked up the catered food from the café and ran across the road to buy some place cards. My eyes glanced over at the greeting cards, there were Happy Birthday cards and there was one that stood out, a bejeweled Owl stared back at me with a gold 80, Nan would have been 80 this year. Was this a sign. I went to turn to the counter and bumped into the lotto desk. I giggled to myself, Next week, Powerball was $7 million dollars, on the 7th August, what were the chances. On a whim, I purchased a ticket, using the numbers from Nan’s notebook.

The memorial was a beautiful affair, made so by the backdrop of the property that now resembled very little to the property I arrived at last year. I was even asked if a family could host a wedding in the barn this coming summer. It was a beautiful setting for any event, so I added it to my business plan. On Friday 8.08.08, 7 days after nan’s anniversary memorial, I receive a phone call, from the lottery office, informing me that my children and I were the winners of $7million dollars. The money would arrive in 7 weeks.

Thanks Nan.