It's Good to Belong to Stuff

If a genie suddenly appeared and promised me three wishes, one of those would be to sit and talk with my Grandfather Frank Leslie Bush, who died tragically in an accident in 1930. When someone dies, they leave behind a body of work of one kind or another. Hoarders leave behind piles of ephemera, millionaires leave property for their heirs to fight over. The longer one lives and the more things one acquires, the more stuff they leave behind.

Among my Grandfather's things were a monogrammed set of gold-filled cufflinks, his paints and brushes, pens and nibs, tie clip, papers and poems and some books. We also have some religious-themed paintings and one of a geisha girl on silk. There is also a lovely table with inlaid wood that Pop says he made, but I doubt it. He was an artist, not a carpenter.

Someday when Pop passes, it will be up to his heirs to divide these few things. How on earth will we do it? And what will become of it when we pass? Will our children see the value and the emotional connection, will they preserve and cherish our family history?

It took me a long time to get curious about my family. The 'frivolity of youth' stage finally passed. Who will be the future keeper of the Bush family treasures? Grandpa died before any of us, including his own son, could get to know him.

If a genie appeared, I would not regret using up one of my wishes on my Grandfather. There are so many things I want to tell him, about his great grandson and daughter, and things I want to ask him. I want to know what his life was like, how the old town of Amsterdam was before it was ruined by developers and engineers, how it felt to be a real artist and photographer, and to teach me calligraphy.

I love you and miss you Grandpa, I see you in my dreams sometimes, and wish I could go back in time and sit down at the table with you and have a piece of Grandma's famous apple pie that you loved so much.

XXXXOOOXXX, your grand daughter.