My husband had a grandmother. He spent every summer with her. She never minded at all. Back in those days, she ran her own business. She managed everything herself, selling medicinal herbs to chemists. My husband isnt sure how she organised it all, but remembers that, by the standards of the time, she earned a very handsome living. She was a woman with quite a particular temperament. She adored my husband and never skimped when it came to meals, but she refused to give him any pocket money for little treats or outings. Everyone thought she must have been saving up for something important.
His grandmother had enormous wardrobes in the house, full of drawers and compartments, each one locked tightly. As a child, my husband was endlessly curious about what was inside them, but she always insisted it was all work-related. Then, times changed. Entrepreneurship became much more common, and her competitors eventually outpaced her. Afterwards, she started working as a healer. She never charged a penny for her services, but some rather well-off people came to seek her help.
We visited her from time to time while she was still alive. She lived in genuine poverty, dressed in tattered clothes and ate the simplest fare. We would bring her boxes of food, but she always declined. She insisted we shouldnt spoil her, saying she was used to such a modest life.
When she passed away, she left the house to my husband. When we came to sort out the affairs of the estate, we discovered her larder filled to the brim with food, all long expired. As it turned out, grateful clients had brought her these provisions, but she never touched them. The real surprise came when we finally unlocked her wardrobes. Inside, we found a trove of expensive things from the nineties, a proper treasure trove of rarities in astonishing quantities.
We couldnt help but wonder why she kept her wealth locked up in objects that would only lose value. Even now, I struggle to understand her. Yet perhaps the lesson is that some people believe security comes from holding on to what you haveeven when it no longer serves you. True value, as we learned, lies not in what we stash away, but in the life we share and the memories we build.
