But I was still fascinated by what I saw. She had diaries, photographs, belongings and letters collected there. Three in particular caught my eye. One was addressed to me, one to my mum and one to my dad.
There were others addressed to the rest of the family, but I only took the ones pertaining to my house. There was movement from the kitchen, and I realised that my parents were waiting for me to open the Christmas presents.
But I beckoned them over to the wardrobe and explained what Grandma had done. ‘I think Grandma wanted to spend one last Christmas with us, even though she won’t be here,’ I said.
‘That sounds so much like her!’ exclaimed Mum, the first to open the letter. Her eyes widened, and she uttered: ‘She left me her silk scarf.’
I smiled and pulled it out of the wardrobe. Mum wrapped it around her, reading Grandma’s words:
‘For you, my dear daughter, so that you will remember me when you need comfort. May it bring you warmth and joy.’
Father’s letter was next. He carefully unfolded it and smiled as he read, ‘To my son-in-law, a man who shares my love of history. This is for you, from your old father-in-law’s collection. May it ignite the same passion in you.’
She presented him with a rare collectible book of model ships that had belonged to my late grandfather. My father’s eyes lit up with delight when I handed him the book. He had dreamed of owning it, and my grandmother fulfilled his wish.
Finally, it was my turn. With trembling hands and pounding heart, I opened the letter.
‘My dear Nora,’ I read aloud, ’I have been quietly saving money for years, putting it away little by little. This is for you, to help you realise your dreams. Use them wisely, my love.’
Beneath her words were her bank details, which we checked later, and the amount was more than enough to pay for the entire first year at an elite school or four years at a public school.
Along with the money, she left me her treasured collection of books that she had collected over decades. She knew how much I loved to read, and I couldn’t have been more grateful to her.
But that wasn’t the end of it. Grandma told me to look at the bottom of her wardrobe, where a small velvet pouch lay. It contained her jewellery collection: dainty necklaces, vintage earrings and a beautiful ring of pearls.
All the women in my family admired the jewellery, and my grandmother instructed my mother and me to distribute it as we saw fit.
After receiving the gifts from my grandmother and the last words to each of us, we gathered around the Christmas tree and naturally began sharing memories of it. We laughed and we cried.
My mum and dad gave me their gifts and exchanged some amongst themselves, but I knew that nothing we received that year would compare to Grandma’s surprise. In a way, she gave us another Christmas with her.
This year I graduated from high school and decided to go to college in our state. So the money she saved will help me get a college education without debt. These days I know I am incredibly privileged.
We will be spending our second Christmas without her, and it’s hard, but I’m finally seeing her die, as my aunt tried to explain. I’m not in a crisis about life and death and what the universe means.
I just see life as a gift. We are here. We make our memories. We are loving. We grow. We learn, and then we leave, whatever that means. And we hope we leave a legacy full of love for those who loved us just as beautifully.