Grandma Sue

Standing in my grandmothers living room I can feel the memories pulling at my body as if I were standing at the shoreline watching the waves recede back into the ocean, just as they did when I was a child. I can hear the faint melodies of Frank Sinatra serenading us over the blast of the trumpet as we snap our fingers and dance around clumsily. Back in present, the blade of guilt stabs my chest as I stand here in the small, quiet condo that had once been my safe haven.

After hanging up the phone call from my grandmothers representative to tell me I had been left something from her, I went into a “forgetting how to blink”, state of shock. We hadn’t spoken in so many years and based on my own fears of rejection I had never tried to reconnect. Selfishly, I had assumed since our disconnection, that she had chosen to happily move on with her life. Thinking this, I had no intention of burdening her with mine.

When I was handed the small tan envelope I knew I didn’t even need to open it up to see that it was a key. It also immediately registered in my mind what the key was for. My grandmother had always kept an antique jewelry box by the side of her bed that required this particular key to open. Another memory floods me. Naturally I was always trying to see inside this box, although every attempt was thwarted by this sweet yet surprisingly stealth woman. My face, obviously showing frustration was met with a little smile and her saying, “some people need to keep things private until they are ready, dear.” Foreshadowing now as I settle in from another flash back in time.

I finally start moving down the hall towards her bedroom, flicking on the light switch letting my eyes adjust. Soft pink and green floral bedding, fresh lemon scented furniture, and the faint musk of rose water spray meet me. Just as I remembered. To the left of her bed on the night stand sat the box, No longer a kid peering with frustration I bend over, carefully pick it up and sit down on her bed. The wood feels smooth and cool, with a small chip missing from a corner. The key in my jacket pocket felt suddenly heavy. I missed her. With shaky hands I take it out and place it in its lock. Turning to the left, there is a faint click causing the lid to lightly spring open.

There is nothing fancy or intricate about the inside of this box and definitely not what I had been imaging up to this point. There are no markings of any kind, just a rough wooden interior with velvet like an unfinished cigar box. One thing stands out sitting there in the middle on the worn, dark green plush is a little black book. It still has it’s luster, looking brand new as if it hadn’t even been touched since its purchase or gifting date. Handling it like a fragile dessert I’m transporting to family dinner, I remove it from the box, slowly opening the cover causing a small piece of paper to drift down landing on my lap. I unfold it revealing a check. It is made out to me and is in the amount of twenty thousand dollars. Underneath the amount there lies my grandmother’s signature. Tears immediately sting my eyes, blurring my vision as I look down at the notebook barely making out her perfectly delicate handwriting that is filling the first page so I swallow them back and I begin to read.

“Hi sweetheart, I hope this notebook finds you well. On each of the following pages I’ve written down a question that I’ve wanted to ask you over the years. I would like you to answer them and eventually have them turn into questions that you will always ask yourself. I want you to know that everything said or not, done or not, everything between us is forgiven on my end. I’ll bet you’re surprised to know I checked in on you and your life until I wasn’t able to anymore. I truly didn’t know if you were alive or not, I just knew I had to be our hope holder and if you’re reading this it worked. I have seen online through pictures and words that you are experiencing this beautiful life with such bravery. I have also noticed your parents and some friends do not support your identity, or that you are transgender. Seeing this broke my heart recalling the time you asked for a “boy” haircut around age 5. I began to try and connect to you with these questions. What I will say next I really wish for you to know and not forget… Just because someone cannot support you does not mean your family does not support you. I will always be your family, and I support you. I’ve loved you from the moment I met you and I will continue to do so long after I’m gone. I want you to know I am so proud of you. So please take this gift. This is money I have been putting away for you since you were a baby. Choose to do with this as you wish, From the little Ive read in these recent years I know “The Road Home” as a Transgender person can sometimes be a costly endeavor. I am not sure when this notebook will meet you but if you so choose please use this to help with anything that will help you feel happy with who you are, what will make you feel safe. I would not want you to have to wait or to ever feel stuck. I am so very proud of you and I want you to know that you can forgive yourself for the years we did not stay connected, I was trying to connect with you in the ways I felt appropriate. You will be happy my dear, If you find you are not, choose to be happy. I will always be watching over you. Love, Grandma.”

To Be Continued…