Too Much to Hope For

Once upon a time, my grandmother had a ladies' pendant watch in a bell-glass case on her livingroom table. She always told me that I could have that lovely little golden watch, someday.

One day, my grandmother died, and then my grandfather took care of that little watch, and told me that it would be mine, someday.

Eventually, my grandfather actually offered that I just take the watch, but I told him to keep it in Grandmother's memory, and that his heirs would know that my grandmother wanted me to have it.

Then, one day, my grandfather died. He had a will, but it was deemed void because others had taken over everything he owned anyway, before he died. That had distressed him, but there seemed nothing could be done. In the event, the house my grandfather had built himself from a kit was sold, for a very nice price, in a town that was gaining popularity at the time. From all they got from what he had, I was allowed to have $1000.

The little watch disappeared. It was probably sold. As with everything else they inherited that day, the people who inherited the watch had no attachment to it beyond the price they could get. They probably got the best price they could for all the things, and had a nice evening out. They didn't give a thought to the symbolic importance of any of it, or the legacy it might have represented; just the price they could get.

Now, both of my parents have died, and my brothers have sold everything they could. My school photos, prizes, mementos—in fact, every bit of evidence that i was even in that family has probably gone to the trash collectors.

I am free.

I guess.

Free like people who have no love for the things their ancestors paid dearly for, or made with their own hands, or gathered to themselves from the fruits of their labors. What happened to my grandfather's fountain pen, that he used to write the FCC with when the local TV station bled over their assigned bandwidth? (Citizen reports used to be the only way to enforce those limits.) What happened to Grandma's collection of 1930's milk glass? The beautiful teak hutch in the dining room? And her pedal-organ? Why did no one ask me whether those things would be valuable to me?

I really wanted that little watch most of all. Ultimately, I guess even that was just too much.