Dear Grandma

There I stood, not knowing whether to ring the doorbell or not. “I have absolutely lost it,” I thought to myself.

I stood there with nothing but my bouquet of flowers — which I haphazardly bought overthinking what to bring to a stranger I know nothing about — and the very thing that brought me to stand on this stranger’s doorstep, the little black book. I ran my finger over the embossed lettering on the leather binding. The letters lined out a D and S.

I pushed the doorbell.

“Oh no, what am I doing?” I wouldn’t say I mustered the courage to do so. Rather, in a split second I seemingly convinced myself no one would answer anyways, so why not just go for it. Something like that. I couldn’t tell if I regretted it or not.

It only took a few seconds for the door to open before me, not giving me enough time to second-guess my decision and walk away.

A glamorous looking woman stood before me. I say glamorous because she wore a beautiful kaftan and dressed her hair with an embroidered scarf. I mean, who actually wears something like that, especially while at home?

I remind myself I rang her doorbell.

“Uh, hello. I’m here because...oops. I mean, hi. My name is “ —

She stops me in my tracks as she gasped, “I know. Come on in!”

“My name is Tash”, I finish my introduction, baffled to say the least.

“Yes, yes, Tash. Please, come in”, and just like that she ushered me into her home.

I thought to myself. I’m losing it. This isn’t something that happens. You don’t just decide one afternoon to follow the instructions written in a journal you got on the front porch in a box with a tag that read “she asked me to deliver this on your 18th birthday”. Inside an address was inscribed with nothing more. So here I am, and now I decide to use my first day of adulthood to walk into a stranger’s home. But oddly enough, I wasn’t scared. I felt comfortable. There was a familiarity to this woman’s presence as if I knew her. At least some part of her. But how and why did she know my name?

Curiosity drew me in as I stepped through the embellished doorway, being hit was the scent of roses, like the perfume my grandma used to wear. I glanced down to the journal I held in my hands running my finger over the initials, again. These initials were hers: D. S.

The kaftan wearing woman led me through her small corridor. I’d always imagined what the inside of a brownstone would look like. What I would have in it, if I could afford to live in one. The colors I’d choose and the ambiance I’d set. “ “Well, this is as close as it gets”, I thought to myself.

I glanced around me as she led me through her small entrance corridor, and I saw, from wall to wal me, picture frames full of people. A life lived. There were even misplaced looking notes, postcards, and letters stuck around the pristine frames almost ruining the arrangement of the carefully laid out gallery of memory.

“Sit, please. I know this must be strange for you, but make yourself comfortable”, she said.

“Sure, thank you. “

She took my flowers and set them beside her. Eagerly she almost shouted, “My name is Maria. I was your grandma’s friend.”

“Oh. Well, it’s nice to meet you,” I replied. “And yes, this is rather strange. I’m not sure what to say. Or even what to ask you?”

And before she could answer, I blurted out. “Actually, I know exactly what to ask you. Forgive me, but why am I here? And why was your address in this journal? How do you know me?”

“Before your grandma died, she came to me and told me that she knew her time was coming. She wasn’t scared, but she was sad. She was saddened not so much that her days were coming to an end but that she would not see you live out yours. It was me who had it sent to you.

“She hasn’t even been gone for that long. How did I not know about you?”

Before I tell you my story, I hope you know she trusted me enough to keep that journal until one day you showed up to my doorstep. And this key. It unlocks a safe box down in the city. I’ll show you where.

She handed me the key. A boring old key. No fancy, hidden inscription giving me some sense of clarity! Is this for real? What is going on? “I think this shock”, I tell myself. “Why am I listening to this woman?” However reluctantly, I knew I had to.

All within minutes, she gives me yet another address to follow in this quest of mine. She tells me to come back, if I wish, after finding whatever it is this key was for.

I agreed.

It was a quaint storage center. Nothing out of the ordinary. I find my unit, 1106. Not knowing what to expect? I wonder if it’s money, but why make me go through all this trouble”.

I found a suitcase laying in the bare unit, nothing else around it. It was no larger than the backpack on my shoulders.

I bring myself to walk into the unit and kneel beside this object apparently made for me to open.

20,000 dollars. That’s what I find!

I quickly shut the suitcase. “There’s now way! What is going on?”

I’m trembling, but I go back and open it again. I see an envelope on top of the bundles of cash.

“To my darling Tash” it read. Tears start falling but almost out of perplexity.

“If you are reading this, my time with you is no more. How strange does it feel to write that out. Regardless, you have questions. Well these are my instructions to you.

Spending this $20,000 the way I ask you to, I promise will add more monetary and fiscal value to your life. More than this $20,000 will. Since I cannot be with you to share a cup of coffee when you visit, or to laugh and cry with you about al that is happening in your life, I need you to take others out on coffee dates. Everyone you know and love. I want you very Saturday morning, just like me and you used to, take a friend or a loved one or even a stranger out to coffee. And use this money to pay for it. I want you to only spend this money on others.

Through the spirit of all the individuals, those you already know and those you’ll later encounter, I believe we will find a piece of each other there. The universe is vast, my dear. Silly to say, but listen to your elders. The human experience is terrifying and magnificent. Go and listen to others and how they have experienced their time on this Earth and take from them the time they have given you and add to your life.

Write in this journal their names and the things that made you laugh or cry with them. Perhaps even record the ones you don’t want to see again! Those are the greatest lessons and make for the funniest stories.

What you offer to others will be what is gifted back to you. Learn to do this, and this cash will turn into more. I’m asking you to invest in yourself by investing in others.

This was my biggest wish in life: to meet as many people as I could and share moments with all the others out there living through their days. This wish is only second to sharing more cappuccinos with you.

I am always with you. And you are always with me. To know my heart and soul, if that is what you seek, then get to know the hearts and souls of all others. Know, my dear, that you yourself are a part of my heart and souls. We are all a part of this life”.

Love,

D.S

I fell to the cold ground of that storage unit. And before I knew it, I was back at Maria’s.

She opens her door, dressed in her Kaftan and said “Let’s go. You’re buying me a coffee first!”

And that, dear diary, dear grandma is how this all begins.