© Bruce Goodman 5 July 2014
Monica was a great-grandmother. She had quite a few years left in her, she reckoned. No need yet to get driven off in a hearse for an eternal rest. Of course, she now-and-again visited the cemetery to put flowers on her husband’s grave. But, as yet, she had little desire to reside there on a permanent basis.
So it was that she decided to create a family heirloom; something that would be passed down from one generation to the next. And she did! She had a loom for hand-weaving. She made a beautiful tapestry, with all the family’s names on it. It had a folk-looking house and picket fence and garden. It took Monica seven years, off and on. It was framed. It was astonishingly beautiful; priceless even.
Then Monica died. She was in her early nineties. Her will stated that the tapestry heirloom should go to her oldest son. Regretfully, it couldn’t be passed down to all branches of the family. Of course it couldn’t!
Nyla was the oldest son’s wife; the late Monica’s daughter-in-law. She hated the tapestry. She thought it was old-fashioned and awful. She threw it in the fire.
She kept the frame though, and put in a picture she’d cut out from last year’s calendar. The picture had three little fluffy kittens on it. They were sooooo cute.