She rings the doorbell and skips in through the open door, looking at me for a reaction. I smile and tell her I rang a few unnecessary doorbells in my early years. She processes this information, taking in the tall lady with an unfamiliar accent, who cleans alongside her mother because she’s just anal like that.
I take the Swiss chalet from its perch on the bar, gently wind the old key, and open the roof. Sweet, lilting notes fill the air and her green eyes, sun-streaked hair tumbling into them, widen with delight. The smile extends to her mouth and she holds my gaze as I gently shut the roof. And then, because just once is never enough, I open it again and let the music waft between us.
When she picked this little box of joy somewhere in the Alps 64 years ago, Nana couldn’t have known that someday, a 4-year-old Mexican-American girl would share its delights with her granddaughter, who clings to this memory of her beloved spirit’s life.
November 8, 1921. Just the date makes my heart glad.
Happy birthday. Thank you for knowing how to love me.
Wisdom Wears Neon Pyjamas 
My eyes have welled up
My heart has swelled up
Nana, thank you
If only you knew
The joy and respect with which your g-d’s held up!
Beautiful. Just beautiful. Can only imagine how your nana must have been.
In my family,nobody likes to cook 😀
But Is this about your paternal or maternal grandmum?
Was your maternal granny a better cook than your mom?
Aww! Touching, moving. Mari Ankhma Aansu Aya. Was the tune Edelweiss? I need to know to read and imagine once again. Do tell. I loved the description of the interaction between you and Green Eyes and the music wafting, connecting. You have told me about your Nana and I know that she really knew how to love you. What a sweet memory.
I know I will come back time and again, to read this post. Just like I read that other one about little C. Or the one (s) you wrote about your dad. You paint such vivid word pictures, OJ. And your love for the people in these posts shines through, ever so beautifully.
Aunty G: Thank you, thank you, my Aunty G
I think she knows, wherever she may be
She was my heart
And played a huge part
In nurturing and sustaining me
Pallavi: Thanks, P. How are you, girl?
Ginger: The answer, my friend, is blowing in this blog.
handwrittenonly: No, not Edelweiss. That song was popularized much after the music box was bought. I will show it to you the next time we meet.
R: 🙂 Do visit whenever your heart desires. I sometimes wonder about the propriety of baring my deepest loves on this page–but I think the world could always do with more expressions of the emotion. Hopefully this doesn’t leave anyone sad.
Such a lovely post! I bet your granny was delighted, wherever she is, God bless her and a very happy birthday to her.
dipali: Nana, not Granny. 🙂 Granny is mum’s mum.