I had the opportunity a couple of days ago to look through a box of my grandpa's old things. Having never known my grandfather, he passed away even before my mother got married, I was curious to see what was in there, especially not really knowing what sort of person he was, except for the odd comments from my mother. My grandmother never really mentioned him to me while she was alive.
The box contained a lot of ribbons he had won from keeping pigeons. Also a diagram of a saddle that he designed, which his employer got all the credit for. And among many things, letters he had written to my grandmother while she was away. I don't know why she was away, somewhere with the children, but he sounded lonely. It was saddening to read the letters, and wonder why they were separated and why there were no replies from my grandmother. Did they even get along at all?
Mum said they were originally set up on a blind date. Grandpa apparently had a thing against red heads. Grandma was a redhead. Obviously he liked her anyway because he talked her into marrying him. Apparently they lived some distance apart, and grandma went down there to tell him it was all over between them, and on that same trip that they ended up getting married. Go figure.
But I wondered at the end of going through the box... 30 years after I'm dead, is that all my life is going to be reduced to? One box of things to show my sojourn on this planet earth. Just a few papers, momentos and nicknacks? What else could one leave on the planet that would prove one had led a useful and meaningful life? The answer eludes me for now, but I'm sure i'll figure it out eventually.
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