Little Black Book

With tears still slowing running down her cheeks, Margaret walked away from the graveside burial of her grandmother with a package in her black gloved hands. One of her aunts handed it to her just after the ceremony was over. Her hands were still shaking a bit and she did not have the heart to open it with so many other people around, so she just stared at her grandmother’s writing on the front. For my dearest Margaret with love.

The reception was lovely. Many family and friends had loving and complimentary things to say about her grandmother, including many comments on her zest for life, joy of giving, and honesty in the hard times. She was well loved and respected by everyone she met. Margaret found herself surrounded by people, but not willing to look anyone in the eye. Her heart was sad. It felt like gravity was pulling down more than just her gaze.

Hours later she said her final goodbyes and drove home. It was a relief to take off her perfectly put together black outfit and heels. As she took the many bobby pins from her hair, she could not even bring her eyes to meet the mirror. She felt nothing like her normally perfectly, put-together self. Usually she prided herself in her proper name and perfect look. She never let anyone call her Maggie. Only Nan could get away with that one.

Something Margaret and her grandmother shared was their love of tea. From a very young age, Margaret and Nan (that is what she always called her) attended one another’s tea parties. The tea set eventually moved away from plastic flowered cups to Nan’s finest silver tea set. Sometimes they would even make scones or cookies together beforehand to make it even more special. It seemed a fitting time to have a cup of tea as she opened the package.

Margaret took a sip of tea and sat down on the couch. After letting out a deep breath, she unsealed the brown envelope, reached in and pulled out a little black book. There was a note stuck to the front of the book that said, “Read this front to back without skipping any pages. This is very important. With all of my love, Nan.”

Just when she thought she had no more tears left in her, a few more trickled down her cheek as she saw her grandmother’s handwriting. She opened the book to the first page and started reading.

“To my dear sweet Maggie,

You have always been one of the biggest joys of my life. From the day you were born, I felt a special connection to you. Not only were you my baby’s baby, but you just grabbed onto my finger the first time I held you and never wanted to let go. I decided in that moment that I would never let go of you no matter how many other distractions came through my life. For some reason, I just knew you needed me more than my other family members. I felt called to be your honest truth, your loving confidant, and your silly encourager.

It has been an absolute joy to watch you grow up and become a woman with determination and unwavering confidence. I like to think I had something to do with that. We have always been quite similar in personalities with one major difference. Though I am confident and determined, I have also learnt how to let go. When you are confident and determined, you can tend to be single minded. You have to dress the part of the job you want. You always have to be available to you boss. You always need to be ready to run into work. And, in your case, you had to be willing to consider your job more important than some friends and experiences you may have missed out on. Don’t get me wrong, I love that you are a successful book editor. I’m so very proud of you. I have to say though, that I had hoped that when you finally reached your goal of jumping through enough hoops, you would relax and start to reconnect with your friends and get out there socially again.

Feeling like a successful career person is so amazing, but over the past few years I have started to notice that you have backed off from meeting new people. I’m not saying you need to get married or anything, but I would like to see you take your hair down and go out for dinner every now and then. When you schedule every second of your life, you leave very little room for true happiness. All you do is sleep, eat, work and exercise. You look perfect everywhere you go. There is never a hair out of place. Your retirement fund is basically full already, but you never see the need to spend money on fun. Aren’t you tired?

I bet you’re wondering why I never said this to you in person. To be perfectly honest, I wanted to many times but it just never seemed to fit the moment. I didn’t get to see you as much in the last couple of years and I didn’t want to mar our time together by potentially arguing. When my health started to go downhill, I really just wanted to have our tea parties and chat like old times. I wrote this out for you hoping and praying that it would find you at just the right time in your life. I also hope that you do not resent me for not saying anything sooner.

I love you so much, and I just wanted to pass on a little wisdom along with this message. The best times of my life were the ones that weren’t planned. They were when your grandfather and I would just hop in the car and drive. They were when you and I would just decide to scrap our usual plans and go for an afternoon out. They were when my friends and family would just stop by because they were thinking of me. And one of my biggest joys after your grandfather died was deciding that I could still go on the trips we always wanted to go on. I remember one day, not more than two months after he died, that I decided I couldn’t stay sad forever and I booked a trip to France. I was on the plane the next day. I wore the comfiest clothes I had and decided once again to look people in the eyes and engage with them. Who knows what life still held for me? I was determined to find out.

My final challenge to you is this, be determined not to settle for a life of schedules. Routine is fine but I want you to turn the page and see what I have for you.”

Margaret turned the page and in a little paper made pocket, she pulled out a check made out to her with the amount of $20,000. Her mouth dropped. Nothing. She had no thoughts. And then she started to tear up again. She turned the page again to read the final words that her grandmother had left her.

“Think of this money as your investment in a future full of surprises. Surprises full of messy last-minute plans, plane trips around the world, and most of all, the opportunity to look people in the eye again, engaging in the unknown. I want my last gift to you not to the be money I left you, but the experiences you gained from it.

I love you so much and I know you’ll do me proud.

With so much love, Nan xoxo”

Margaret just let the tears flow again. Nan and her wisdom. Her honest truth. Her joyful giving. And most importantly, her zest for life.

When the tears finally stopped, Margaret got her computer out and booked a flight to Paris. She gave herself a few days to get her affairs in order at work, for she didn’t want to be completely irresponsible, and then packed a small backpack. Never before had she used this traveling backpack Nan had given her at her high school graduation. She didn’t pack a speck of make up or anything less comfortable than running shoes and a pair of athletic pants.

As she stepped on the plane and slid into her window seat, she looked outside and sighed with relief. Finally, some time to reflect. She brought the little black book Nan gave to her, as the last half of the book was still empty. She hoped to fill it with all of her simple joys of the unknowns on her trip. As she sat up from putting her bag under the seat in front of her, someone sat down next to her. She looked them in the eye and said, “Hi, my name is Maggie.”