Turn A Page to Eternal Life

It’s hard to believe it’s been almost a full week since she died. Just last Wednesday she and I were having tea. The next morning, I received a phone call informing me that her first client of the day found her body on the kitchen floor. No certain cause of death other than natural causes. Since then the obituary was written and released, her services were beautiful, and just moments ago we put her to rest in her mausoleum. She was 100, almost on the dot. We were celebrating her birthday the day before as I was out of town on a work trip and my sister, the only other living relative she had blown her off. Now my sister Anna and I sit in the office of Kevin Rockford, my Grandmother’s estate lawyer.

As he goes on and on in a rhythmic yet rehearsed way my sister grips the arms of her chair listening for her inheritance, as I think. The first line of the obituary read, “Mary Fontenot, a lifelong resident, and resident psychic of New Orleans has passed away at the age of 100,” she was 100 on Monday, we had tea on Wednesday, and she was gone Thursday. All I can think about is how in the obituary it said “Survived by Anna and Danny Montclair.” How is it that she out lived her siblings, our parents, and her other children? I wonder how is it that my sister and I are the ones having to handle this process, well better yet, how is it that I’m having to handle this alone. Like usual, my sister is little to no help with this. If not for me, we would have not known our grandmother’s favorite hymns to play, how many and which type of flowers to arrange for her, and would not have remembered her unit number in the cemetery let alone what dress and jewelry she wanted to be buried in. I was the only one in the family that would ever visit her, even on her birthday. I want to think about the good times she and I shared, but all I can muster up to feel are feelings of remorse for my family who made her an outcast and never tried to have her be in their life. They truly missed out on her warm embrace and seemingly infinite amount of wisdom. Finally, now, I’m reminded of a time wh-.

Anna abruptly interrupts my thought, probably for the best. “Danny, are you literally day dreaming during our grandmother’s will reading!?”

As if she cared about anything other than the potential of being left the small but sturdy fortune my grandmother left behind. As if she wasn’t on her phone during both services and the burial. I bite my tongue as always though. “Sorry, this whole thing has me pretty upset. What were you saying Kevin?”

Kevin, an older man, in an old suit, sat behind an old desk, and using an old pair of glasses continued to speak. “I was just explaining when she last updated and signed her paperwork, and of course I shared mine and my family’s condolences with you two. Your grandmother was a special lady and this city will surely miss her and her energy, but we just know her spirit is still with us.”

Kevin was a nice enough man. Owned his own practice which my grandmother inspired him to do after one of her readings for him. In living to 100 I bet she had given everyone in this city a reading before. Kevin cleared his throat by hacking into an old handkerchief and proceeded with the will.

“My sweet Danny and Anna, my lovely grandchildren and the only family I have left. I want you to hear from me ‘I love you’ one last time. I was always busy with my work and probably seemed distant, but watching the two of you grow and mature into adults and your own person was the greatest joy of my life. As you both know I lived a simple life and set myself up to earn only what I needed, as my profession was noble and the power in which I used for work came with an abundance of responsibility. Therefore, I have but two things remaining in my possession worth passing along. The two of you will talk, while Kevin mediates, to decide who gets what. My house will be given back to the historic society for a museum piece they are adding to the city, each of you will have a month to go visit it until the keys are turned over. The old green Buick got me over 500,000 miles’ worth of traveling and I never left New Orleans, so it was in decent enough condition to be sold to a collector for $2,000 which is the first item, and the only money I am leaving behind. Second and lastly, growing up I always cherished the notes left behind from my mother before she passed on, having her handwriting allowed her to live on. As you both know, throughout my whole life, I kept the same black leather bound notebook to track my thoughts, practices, and memories. This notebook will be item number two. I wish you two nothing but joy and warmth for the rest of your time with this life and I hope you two come back together once again, you are the only family each of you have. Love and remember dearly, Grandma Mary.”

Without missing a beat and even before Kevin was able to put the paper down and take off those old glasses Anna took it upon herself to plead her case for which item she wanted.

“I think this is a really tough decision for us, Danny. On one hand we both could use the money but on the other hand, her notebook was always by her side and who knows what secrets are in there.”

The way my sister stressed and inflated her voice made it very clear she only had a fake interest in the notebook and was merely trying to upsell it to me so I would, in her mind, buckle into giving her the money. Even Kevin noticed and smirked as he sat back to enjoy her opening argument.

Anna continued to use fluffy rhetoric to build a dichotomy between the two, still insinuating that the book was better. “I mean really though, what is $2,000 compared to the thoughts of our grandmother? Sure that money could get one caught up on bills, put a down payment on a new car, or even go on a travel and shopping spree, but the notebook is just priceless, ya know?”

She spoke of those spending possibilities as if she was actually going to put it to bills or a new car, she lingered over the traveling and shopping idea enough to show that’s what she really wanted. I know my sister well enough at this point to read her mind. Nevertheless, I did not care, as I have always wanted to look into that notebook. Maybe it was the secrecy of it, or actually what she said about having her handwriting to remember her by, either way I knew I wanted it so I spoke up and gave Anna what she wanted. “Anna, I know you probably want the notebook but could I please have it? She and I were very close and I would love to see her handwriting once more and have it forever. Would you be okay with taking the mon-“

Before I could even finish Anna bursts out “I mean she did say we should stick together, so if it will appease you for all of my past transgressions then I will sacrifice the book and take the money.”

My sister has always been like that and did not realize that if she approached it with an ounce of respect or awareness, she still would have gotten what she wanted. Regardless, Kevin handed Anna the two grand in a random assortment of bills, none over $20 and a rather large jar of change. I wish words existed to illustrate how her face deflated when she received her payment as was, instead of a check. As he handed me the book, Kevin and I shared a chuckle that Anna was oblivious to.

Just holding the book felt like being with my grandmother. Anna and I got up to leave but Kevin stopped me as Anna left to probably blow the money right away. Kevin handed me an envelope and shared “I was instructed by Mary on Wednesday to provide this envelope to whomever got the book, apparently it goes along with it.” I began to leave the office and Kevin shared his last thoughts “Oh and Danny, your grandmother was in fact a great woman and I meant it when I said her spirit is still here, anyone that she gave a reading to feels it and I am sure of that. Take care son, continue to make her proud.”

Later that afternoon, as I walked up her drive way for the very last time, I admired the perfectly natural privacy hedges and the flowers just about to bloom. I sat on the porch briefly to relive our last moments together before heading inside. Everything was untouched and the aroma and feeling of each room reminded me of her. I passed by my heights marked on the door frame and took a load off at her psychic reading table.

I opened her black book and began to flip through the pages. Along with her hand writing I now had random thoughts, lists, and several doodles she had throughout the years, as well as the dates she had them. I quickly remembered the envelope given to me, so I opened it up to find one last note from my grandmother.

Surprisingly, it read.

“Dear Danny,

I just knew you would receive my book from Mr. Rockford, I wish I could have been there to see you get it and also see Anna’s face when she received all of that change. You and I were always much closer than I was with Anna. That is because you have what I have, a gift for reading people; their feelings, their thoughts, and subsequently their minds. I have given psychic readings for my whole life to people in this city and I have cherished every bit of it. However, the only thing keeping me alive was getting to see you one last time, I always enjoyed our tea time. This book has 200 pages of my thoughts and is sought after by a buyer of antiques. If you so choose, you can sell each page for $100 coming up to $20,000. More than enough to pay the final house payment here and retain the rights to this property from the historical society. The last time we spoke you seemed overworked, unappreciated, and lost in life. It is because you aren’t fulfilled, Danny. Take this opportunity to get back into the life you were destined to have. You have my gift, and now you have my home, use it wisely or use your savings to start over somewhere else. You have the secret power I have, you just have to believe in yourself.

Love,

Grandma Mary “

I put the letter down and wiped away my tears. I gathered myself, and knew I would use my savings for the final house payment. I found the buyers phone number and left him a message.

“This is Mary Fontenot’s grandson, thank you for your interest in purchasing her journal, but it is no longer for sale. I have decided to keep it for myself to continue our work here in New Orleans. $20,000 is a generous amount, but I would rather have her book and hand writing.”

I hang up.

Now, to get my own black notebook.