The Notebook

Here's something annoying about me: I am one of those types who has a place for everything. If you move something an inch from where it "belongs," there is a 100% chance that I will notice.

Without fail, every visit I make home, I notice that something always shifts around, is added to, or is taken away from my bedroom in my parents' home. (Note that I know, I know--it's their house, and they can move things around as they see fit.) But that is why I immediately eagle-eyed an old yellowing notebook sitting on my bookshelf when I walked in last week.

Come to find out, my mom had placed it there for me. When I opened it, the pages were filled with pressed plants and flowers along with their scientific names and the dates and locations of where they were all found. It was from 1931, and it was clearly someone's school assignment. And because of the handwritten notes, I knew exactly whose it was: my Grannie's.

You might remember that I wrote about this same little lady back in January, right after she passed away. Last Tuesday would have actually been her birthday. Needless to say, it was an interesting time to reconnect with her like this.

I loved reading every word of it. But you know what really struck me? That it's strange to see the handwriting of someone I remember from her 60s to her 90s as the handwriting of someone in her teens. I guess it's just a good reminder that my grandmother had a life well before meeting me. Or my mom. Or my uncles. Or my grandfather.

I think Gran would have appreciated that I noticed.

(P.S. I love how she wrote her name on this last page--the writing goes from small to large to larger. This isn't how she signed it normally; it's the signature of Lucille the student saying, "Praise Jesus, I am DONE with this project. W-H-E-W!)

What have you inherited?

Just after the New Year, my 93-year-old grandmother passed away after a long illness. She was a firecracker of a lady who lived a great story, loved and was loved, and made the best scrambled eggs you have ever tasted.

At Grannie’s funeral, I wore a mother’s ring she passed down to me. This item was one she particularly wanted me to have: when I was little, I would have her point to each gemstone, tell me whose birthstone was whose, when their birthday was, and then repeat it again. And again. And again.

It’s not worth any money, but it’s worth so much to me. I was so honored that she thought of me and made sure that I would have that memory to pass down to someone else some day.

With her death, these past few weeks have been a really reflective time for me. And it's got me thinking about a few of the other things I’ve inherited from my family members over the years.



What I received: 150-year-old wooden travel trunk from my grandfather, Tom

Why: As a baby, while playing in my grandparent's home, I apparently crawled up to the trunk and patted my hand on it. My pawpaw saw me do it, and from then on out, said that the trunk would be passed down to me. (Clearly, it was the cutest patting-of-a-trunk ever witnessed. It's too bad I don't have this kind of magic today.) It came from my great-great-grandfather's first wife, who used it to move from Texas to North Carolina after they married.

Other things I inherited from him: A passion for beautiful surroundings and large open spaces (you should have seen his acres of flower and vegetable gardens!)



What I received: Mary Had a Little Lamb celluloid toy from Lillian, my great aunt

Why: This was Aunt Lillian's toy as a child. I was the first grandchild in our family, and was unfortunately the only kid she got to know--she passed away when I was really young (although I do remember her). That said, I was, by default, her favorite grand-niece, and she wanted me to have something that had been hers.

Other things I inherited from her: A love of old homes and of children



What I received: Books from both my grandfather, Arthur, and my Grannie, Lucille

Why: My grandpa was really into me being serious about my schoolwork, and loved that I loved learning, too. I have his paperback copy of “Walden” by Henry David Thoreau. I would often see him reading this (which I adore) and I asked to have the copy when he passed away. I received some of Grannie's nursing-school books (among others) when we cleaned out her home, and they are a wonderful reminder of her commitment to her career.

Other things I inherited from them: My Grannie's perseverance, stubbornness, and dedication; my grandfather's big ideas and even his ability to whistle. And I mean really whistle.

What about you? Do you have anything passed down to you that's special--or that made you special?