“That’s for you.” The lawyer places a shoebox on the desk between us.
“My uncle left me some shoes?” I nod my head slowly. “That makes sense.”
“I know nothing of the contents. He taped it closed himself and insisted that you not open it until you are alone…” He pauses to shuffle through some envelopes on his desk. “But you must read this first.”
I take the envelope, glancing at the names carefully written on them in my uncle’s block letters. Apparently, both of my sisters, my mom, and my uncle Dave haven’t visited with Uncle Shane’s lawyer yet. I wonder what style of shoes he left them. I earned low top blue and white sneakers somehow.
“Thank you so much, Mr. Wade.” I lift the box from desk, pondering how shoes could have this kind of heft.
It occurs to me this could be a box of family pictures or important documents. I heft the box again and again to gauge its weight as I carry it to my car. The drive home blurs with memories of Uncle Shane from freeze tag to unsuccessful fishing trips to the last time we talked.
We didn’t say anything unusual and he closed off with his standard reminder to keep it real. He did deviate from our mundane jocularity to make a weird comment about knowing he can always trust me with the hard decisions. I glance at the box, wondering what hard decision it might contain.
The piercing scream of the horn of a passing car puts my eyes back where they belong—on the road. Properly chastened, I focus on my driving until I pull into my garage and close the door. I don’t bother opening the door. Curiosity takes hold of my hands and I reach for the box, remembering the counsel to read the letter first. I open it slowly and take a deep breath.
“Dear Opal,
“You’ve always been the gem of our family, sparkling bright even when the rest of us are struggling. That’s why I didn’t tell you I was sick. I wanted to be able to see that sparkle until the day I died. Hope I succeeded.
“So everyone got a shoebox. You probably figured that out even though I asked the lawyer to see you each separately. Honestly, I didn’t want you to learn about your inheritance in front of everyone else. Most of those shoeboxes are filled with trinkets, or pictures of larger items that I knew they wanted, but you never asked for anything. You always gave. You always give.
“So I have given you a huge responsibility. Go ahead. Open the shoebox now.”
I set the letter down and open the shoebox. Nestled inside, I find stacks of hundreds. I slowly pull them out, counting at least two thousand dollars. Underneath that, my uncle had placed a cashier’s check for an unspeakable sum of money. I take another deep breath and pick the letter back up.
“I hope you will listen to me and use some of this money to do something nice for yourself. Even if it is just a haircut. You should be able to spend twenty dollars on yourself without feeling guilty.
“The rest of it, I know you will invest wisely for our family, so you can help out if they really need it. I hope you will forgive me for putting this on your shoulders, but I know I can trust you. I know you love our family as much as I do. You are so much better at showing it than I ever was though. Just keep being you.
“And, Opal, keep it real.
“Love and stuff,
“Your Uncle Shane”
~~Are you that person? Are you the gem of your family? I, honestly, would probably spend a fair amount of that money on books and things to nibble while reading said books. That’s why no one ever leaves me shoeboxes full of cash, right?
In other news, I am sorry this offering is late. I haven’t been feeling well and I need to invest my time better in order to keep entertaining the world and keep my house acceptably clean and tidy.~~
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