by Amber

The Inheritance

The afternoon sky was dreary with rain clouds as I entered the dust covered attic. Slowly, I took in the scene. Decades had passed since I’d last been here. My childhood home needed to be packed up, and this was the last of the job.

My mother had recently passed away and the house that I once called home would be sold. I had been transported back in time to a place where I’d once worn pigtails and jumped rope in the driveway. Grief clouded my mind and the days before had passed me by, until I was here, standing in this attic. I catch my reflection in an antique mirror that once belonged to my great grandmother. The image is like ice water being poured over my head. Suddenly, everything feels painfully real, and I begin to cry. This definitely isn’t going to be a simple task.

Gingerly, I set about organizing and boxing away these belongings that were long ago forgotten. I’m pleased to find a treasure trove of mementos from my early years. My favorite stuffed animal, Ruffy The Bear, was nestled at the top of a box from my bedroom. I hadn’t seen this beloved bear in what felt like an eternity. Hugging him tightly to my chest, I instantly felt calmness wash over me. He still held the familiar scent of White Oak from the toy chest that sat under my windowsill. Glancing back down, I notice the poem I had written in high school that won first place in an online contest. Reading it now, I realize there was a plethora of angst on the page. I’m relieved it managed to get tucked away out of sight.

Sitting down next to the box, I dig in. Pulling memory after memory out and organizing as I go. Finally, I’m down to a single item. Staring back at me is an intriguing little black notebook. This was definitely not one of my journals, there was only one person I knew who habitually wrote in black notebooks. Suddenly, I realize, this is one of my mother’s journals, packed carefully away for me to find amongst my childhood memories. My hands begin to tremble as I slowly open the notebook.

The first page is filled with a sprawling doodle of a Daisy. Of course, she was obsessed with these flowers, she even named me Daisy. She would often say to me, “Nothing is more precious, than my favorite Daisy.” I smile to myself and slowly trace my fingers along the petals of her drawing. Flipping the pages, I find poetry and more doodles. Feeling overwhelmed, I decide I’d rather read through this in the comfort of, well, anywhere other than this dusty old attic. I reach over to put the notebook in a box, and a pressed white Daisy slides down the last page, peeking out a bit. Opening the book, I tuck the flower back in place and noticing what is written there, I pause.

Strangely, there are some numbers written at the top of the page, and they’re circled in the darkest black ink. Underneath the numbers, in my mother’s handwriting, there’s a cryptic message. I read it aloud, trying to make sense of it.

“My favorite Daisy, I dreamt tonight that you won.”

That’s it, no context, just a simple sentence. Quickly, I snap a picture of this page with my phone to puzzle over later and I pack up the boxes.

Sitting in my car, I’m emotionally drained. I decide that if I’m to drive to a hotel tonight, I definitely need a jolt of caffeine. I decide to stop in at the familiar corner store down the block. Grabbing my coffee, I head to the cash register, and suddenly I have an idea. Pulling out my phone, I find the photo with the mysterious numbers circled. I ask the cashier for a lotto ticket with my mother’s numbers. Leaving the old neighborhood, with a lottery ticket in my pocket and a coffee in my hand, I begin to feel lighter.

Over dinner the next evening, I tell my best friend the story of the mysterious numbers and the ridiculous lottery ticket that I bought on a whim. We have a good laugh and imagine all of the ways to spend fantasy millions. After dinner, I begin my nightly bedtime routine and appreciate being in my own space. As I sit on the edge of my bed, I decide to check the winning numbers for my ticket. Clicking the page to see the results, I feel silly. Obviously I didn’t win.

The page is loaded and I read the numbers, comparing them to my ticket. Shock washes over me and the phone drops right out of my hands. I’ve just won $20,000.

Written in 2021 to enter a contest. It was a fun writing experience. The prompt was to include a windfall of money and a notebook.

48 thoughts on “The Inheritance”

  4. It’s amazing writing 📝
    I felt as if I was seeing play in a dark room.
    When I was reading that you pulled out your memories from the box 📦 it make me emotional
    This was a beautiful piece of writing 👍👏👏

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  9. Dear Amber

    Greatly penned, my friend 🙂

    My mother had a kind of “six sense” – she used to be a nurse in a hospital and made lotto with some of her collegues. Once – and this really happened – she dreamt the numbers and next day told to her collegues to change the numbers (they always used the same numbers) because she told them that she has dreamt the numbers. So they all agreed just for fun to change the numbers. They all were shocked and could not believe it: they had 5 right numbers out of 6 and won in those days a lot of money. My mother had other strange experiences with her “six sense”.

    Love and light to you, my dear friend 🙂
    Didi

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  11. kinda been there done that. when me wife left me on her bday in 1997 i was out to lunch. i lost my job. i cashed in all my assets and checked out of life for three years. i tried to reconcile with her she said no and even pope st son tom wonders why. but when a woman says no it is over. fucking over for fucking ever.

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    1. I’m sorry 😞 that’s a sad story, maybe your son will eventually see things from your perspective.. we can only hope that he can reach across the divide and make amends 💞✨

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  13. This was an extraordinary piece, Amber!!! I don’t know if there was any truth in the loss of your Mom and family home; if so, I am deeply sorry!!! You have a precious gift; thank you for sharing it with us!!! 🫶🏻

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      1. Ohhh, thank goodness, Amber!!!! I knew it was primarily fictional, but wasn’t sure if there were any factual threads!! 🥹🙏🏻 Your beautiful mom must be SO PROUD of YOU!!!! 🥰❤️

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  16. Amber, I am an amateur writer with absolutely no background or experience in literature. Yet, I feel I am in the presence of genius here. You are truly a very gifted writer. Your work is a joy to read, whether it’s poetry or prose. There is a gentleness in your writing that fills me with peace and calm. I thank God that you have been generous to share your precious talent with the world.

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