I am a skeptical person. It’s in my nature. But there are some things that are just unexplainable and in this case, I am OK with that.
As you may know, Peanut was name after my grandfather – Emery. He died when I was in middle school after a short, but painful battle with cancer. He was quick with a smile and hug and I always enjoyed visiting him. His back yard was filled with fun for us – a tree swing, an apple tree from which I ate so many apples I would get a stomach ache and a strawberry patch where I was known to eat more strawberries than actually put in my basket. He had four sons who each had two daughters. His granddaughters could do no wrong.
Emery was a name my sister had picked out but decided not to use. When we found out we were having a girl, she offered it to me. My sister is a giving person. This was probably the best gift she could have given to me.
When I was pregnant with Peanut, I was cleaning out some bags and came across something I thought I had lost. It was a tie tac that both my sister and I wore when we got married. Two hands praying. I was sick with worry for a long time because I couldn’t find it and I wanted to give it back to my sister. It belonged to my grandfather. I cried with relief having found it in a purse.
Shortly after Peanut was born, the husband took her out back to the patio. The air was still but the wind chimes began moving, making their music. My grandfather loved wind chimes.
This weekend, my parents came to visit and brought things of mine that had been in their basement. One was a simply wooden box my grandfather made me when I was kid. I left it on the dining room table, not think much about it.
The husband called me at work and asked me what was up with the box. Thinking he was going to get on my case for not putting something away (I have a habit of that) I cut him off and told him not to worry about it. I would put it away when I got home. He told me Peanut wanted to look at it.
Later, after he put Gizmo to bed, he came downstairs to find that Peanut had closed the doors to the kitchen and dining area. He found her inside, sitting at the table playing with the box. When he asked her why she shut the doors, she told him she didn’t want anyone to bother her.
And when they went to bed, she told him the box needed to go with her because the box would be sad if she left it downstairs with the cat.
Peanut will never meet her namesake but I like to think that somehow, she still knows him.