Opening a box belonging to a great-great-grandparent, they smiled warmly. This was truly a treasure. An heirloom beyond any they could have desired as an inheritance. Their grandparent had always been an avid writer since they were young. And what was in the box? Diaries. From the time their grandparent had been a child, into adulthood, into old age, and even a few weeks before their serious decline made it impossible for them to do more than sleep, and write in their dreams. -- Anon Guest
GrampGramp had been one hundred and fourteen when he passed. The old man had joked that Death wouldn't take him while he could tell the Grim Reaper a story. Death must have been patient about the lack, since GrampGramp had lasted three more years beyond his ability to keep one story in mind.
"I have a box for you," GrampGramp repeated towards the end. "It's under the bed." And of course Lil had to find it and show it to him so his shattered mind was at ease.
Now that he was beyond worrying about anything, Lil was reluctant to open it.
It was a hefty thing. Not just sturdy, but loaded full of something. Lil was lucky it had wheels and a handle for pushing or pulling. The home insisted that Lil clear it out, and didn't help load it into the car.
There was no way Lil could get it out of the car like how it went in. The only way was to unpack it. Lil turned the key in the lock and levered the lid open.
Books. Each one three hundred and seventy pages thick. Each one with a year on the cover. The highest one was four years before GrampGramp died. Lil stacked them up by their workplace bookshelves. Decade by decade. One hundred and ten years of journals. A literal lifetime of memories.
A lifetime of stories. And a letter.
My darling Lil, GrampGramp wrote. You're the first to care about my stories since Eda passed, so many years ago. The only one in all our family who wanted more of them. So here they all are. From the first one I wrote to the last one I was able to finish. May they give you joy now that I've gone. Use them if you like, as inspiration for your own stories.
The first problem, according to Lil, was being able to read them first. Their eyes kept clouding up with tears.
[Photo by Guy Bianco IV on Unsplash]
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