The Legacy Left Behind

My grandmother, or Nonna, was one of the most influential people in my life. She taught me the differences between cultures, specifically the differences between English and American customs. Luckily I wasn't secluded to just one, but influenced by all.

In my family, because we are so wide spread, we find it necessary to have heirlooms. Most of the time they're nothing of value or small trinkets we made. However, each of those small items has a story behind it and that's what I find important to have in families. Not everyone may know the stories but to know that the stories are at least continuing.

I remember my Nonna had this little wooden box that always sat on her vanity in the bathroom, in between the toothbrushes and the sink. Finally I mustered up the nerve to look at what was in this little wooden box that stood frozen in the bathroom. When I opened it I was shocked because I had expected for there to be jewelry or some other small piece of something, but no. This intricate little box was completely empty and, to me, served absolutely no purpose at all. I mean what could this little piece of wood have to do with anything.

Dumbfounded I went downstairs to the kitchen to eat lunch and to ask Nonna what the heck was up with the empty box in the bathroom. However, I was to scared that she would give me a good lashing for poking around someone else's private matters, so I just kept my mouth shut and ate like I was supposed to do. Until dinner...

Do you ever have that moment where you say something and then instantly regret it?

Well this is a prime example of one of these times. I had planned on bringing it up in a casual manner, but nooooo. My mouth had other ideas that it didn't care to share with my brain. So naturally I just blurted it out. My first thought was "Great job Erika. Well, we better just go break off the switch already."

But what happened truly surprised me. Nonna just started laughing. Like not cute little giggle laughing but, full body convulsion laughing. To be honest it scared me a little.

After she settled down, she explained that the box did indeed have a purpose. The engravings on the sides of the box made up our family crest and her mother had given it to her for her sixteenth birthday. It was one of the only things that she had brought to the States, other than her clothes, when she moved. It was one of the last things she had left that represented her mother and her old life in Hampstead, England.

I really wish I would've thought to get a picture of it last time I was at her house but if I were want to pass anything down, it would be Nonna's box. To represent the legacy left behind of a person that has changed my whole world.