Tag Archives: inheritance

What Would Nannie Do?

Leave a reply

When you spend a week at the “cabinet” (my four year old nephew’s word for cabin)  without television with your parents and siblings and their families, you have plenty of time for conversation.  One of the topics that comes up every time we are all together is a task that I have struggled to complete.  Have you done anything with your inheritance? Now before anyone suddenly decides to become my new best friend, let me do a little explaining.  My “inheritance” is a whole life insurance policy that my grandparents, Nannie and Granddaddy, bought when all of us kids were little.  If I were to pass away today, my family would have a thousand dollars to spend towards my funeral. If I wanted to be buried in a soup kettle, that might cover it. There is a buy-out option, which the last time I checked was considerably less.

Since we have worked hard to adequately insure ourselves, my best option would be to take the pay-out.  I professed that I hadn’t made up my mind and was waffling between several options for what to do if I took the cash option.

But then there was the other conversation that took place at the cabinet. This one bittersweet in nature, as caring for elderly parents is a difficult challenge. Both my Nannie and Granddaddy have gone on home to heaven as well as my Papa, leaving only Mama left of my grandparents.  Mama’s house is in dire need of some repairs, but she adamantly refuses to let us do any work to fix it, always comparing the days she has left on earth to the cost/benefit analysis of spending her money to make the repairs.  Even when we have offered to make the repairs at no cost to her, she refuses.

great depresion

Farm Security Administration: Destitute pea pickers in California. Mother of seven children. (Circa February 1936). Picture for the FDR, courtesy of the National Archives and Records Administration.

I wasn’t even a twinkle in someone’s eye during the Great Depression, but all of my days I have lived with the after effects.  My grandmothers are the perfect dichotomy of those ripples from that era in our nation’s history.  Mama has chosen to save every last penny she has, just in case.  She never wanted to live like that again, choosing to do without now, while saving for the day that she might need it later.  Nannie on the other hand lived by the philosophy “smoke ‘em if you’ve got ‘em”.  My maternal grandmother’s take on life was to enjoy the good days while you’ve got them and not worry or plan for tomorrow.

The irony of the situation is the one time she chose to plan for tomorrow is what has me in a quandary.  My grandmother, a shrewd businesswoman with only an 8th grade education, was a whiz at numbers, but somehow never mastered spending within your means.  If she saw something that made her smile, she bought it and LOTS of it.

When it comes to grandmothers and genetics, I definitely take after both of them.  My love of crafting, hospitality, and good ol’ Southern comfort food can be attributed to both.  My love of bling definitely originates with Nannie as does my love of animals, but my money sense falls in step with my Mama’s pragmatism.

So even though my letter from the insurance company arrived over two years ago, it sits collecting dust.  My dilemma haunts me every time I come across that letter.  Do I spend the money on something practical like paying for tuition for the doctorate I am pursuing?  Or do I honor the grandmother who gave it to me and ask WWND – What Would Nannie Do?

For a while now, I have had my eye on this nugget ice counter appliance which is the first of its kind.  Some may raise their eyebrows at that purchase, but if you have ever seen me order a beverage at a fast food drive-thru you would understand.  Can I please get a sweet tea with extra, extra, EXTRA ice?  And trust me, if my straw doesn’t hit a cube on the way in, I am righteously indignant.  Ice machine may sound frivolous to some, but to me, it sounds divine – simply divine. And then I remember that my kitchen, while beautifully remodeled still has limited counter space. Ugh!

And then there is the home fitness surfboard that I have dreamed of owning for a bit.  I regularly profess that I need high doses of Vitamin Sea; so if I can’t bring Mohammed to the mountain the girl to the Gulf, then at least I could pretend to be there while toning my well-earned momma-to-many core. A little ocean music and (voila!), I am home. Of course, this kind of surfing won’t result with sand in places I didn’t even remember I had which is always a bonus. And then the Mama side kicks in and reminds me the last fitness equipment purchase I made ended up being a jungle gym for my kids and place to hang the laundry. Argh!

All of this puts me right back at square one, still stuck. So for now, the letter sits, until I can completely make up my mind or at least, until I can balance whether the Nannie or Mama side of me wins out.

But like my Mom said at the cabinet, if you were truly going to spend it like Nannie would, I should go out and buy some lottery tickets. Somehow I have to believe that if there is a window from heaven, tucked up in her favorite fishing hole, Nannie would have looked down and laughed at that idea.

I know for sure one part of her philosophy was spot on – enjoy the moments you have because someday they will be your precious memories!

 

 

 

Invasion of the Gnomes

Leave a reply

Since my Nanny’s passing, my mom and dad have spent much of the last several months working on sorting through the items she left behind.  It has been a grueling task, physically and emotionally.  As they were going through volumes of items, they decided to ask the grandchildren if there were things that we or our children would like to have.  Eventually one of the things making the round of the “Does Anybody Want These?” lists was garden tchotchkes.

My parents who are actually quite adept at technology and decorating sent us a picture with my dad’s legs standing among the items available balancing a yardstick to give perspective.  I immediately requested the tall gnome with the measuring stick even though I couldn’t see anything more than his bottom half.  I figured he might come in handy around here. My mother replied he was already taken. Since my first request was unavailable, I took a closer look at what new treasures lay waiting. I love a good garden gnome; so, I speedily replied as to which couple I would love to see in my garden.  My brother chimed in on a few he would like.  My sister’s response was a flat out, “NO THANKS!”

My first exposure to gnomes was when my family made a cross-country move to North Dakota.  I remember being smitten with them, because my brother and I were huge Smurfs fans.   Years later, I created tiny fantasy gardens with itsy-bitsy gnomes.  My children grew up watching very carefully, because sometimes it would seem the gnomes had moved or new items appeared with them.  We still talk about the bowling ball and pins that appeared one morning in one of those gardens. Such is the whimsy of my backyard!

Almost a month after the text messages, my parents arrived with a U-Haul full of treasures from my Nanny’s house.  Among them was our new garden kitsch.  At first, we placed them on our deck carefully, cautioning the kids that we would think about exactly the right place for them later.

Since they were my grandmother’s, I wanted to preserve them, put them on a shelf, and make sure they lasted forever.  I didn’t want anyone or thing to touch them.  Then one night, I got a nudge deep in my heart. I knew Nanny would ask, “What in heaven’s name are you thinking?”.  She would never want me to box them up for display only, much like many of us do with our best china.  They are meant to be in the garden bringing smiles and maybe just a touch of mischief to anyone lucky enough to spot one.

My nerves steeled. I resolved to place them in Reed’s garden, by asking my little girl to have the honors.  I think both Reed and Nanny would have been proud of that choice. A job of this importance required a child-like heart, not a heart, like mine, too timid to even use them.  I told her there was only one rule.  That rule: Mom can’t change where you put them.  Imagine the gift she received that day!

gnomes

That night in bed, I realized that I do that a lot.  I receive blessings from God, but I am, on occasion, too timid to use them.  I want to put them on the shelf and look at them.  I want to be reminded that, indeed, God has blessed me.  Sometimes, I don’t want to share them in fear that the blessings will tarnish or diminish in beauty. But much like my Nanny’s garden decorations, I am beginning to realize that perhaps the reason for the blessings is for us to pour them out to others.  Memories of the times that God was so good to us! Perhaps that was God’s plan all along for our new little buddies waving from the greenery in the back of the lot.

So today I choose to not hold on too tightly to my blessings, counting them one by one, but instead allowing God to use them through me.