Florence was underwhelmed by an ancient emerald studded ring she received from Irene for her 18th birthday. In disgust, the young girl dropped her grandmother’s present on the ground, but it soon burst open.
Florence used to love going to Irene’s house during the summer vacations when she was a kid. The poor woman lived in the Texas countryside and supported herself by working on a ranch.
Florence would follow her around, hopping around like a bird, sometimes assisting her with carrying the veggies to the house and other times simply spending time with her grandma. However, as she grew older, her connection with Irene shifted.
Florence stopped going to Irene’s residence as a teenager, and if Irene traveled to New York, Florence would be irritated by her and persuade her parents to send her back home. “Mom!” Florence would be irritated. “How come Grandma is staying with us?” Please inform her that she must return!”
Her mother would explain, “You shouldn’t talk of her like that, Florence.” “She’s your grandmother!” exclaims the narrator.
“But, mama, she stinks!” She’s also dressed shabbily! When my buddies see her, they all make fun of me. Please send her home!” Florence would be adamant.
Irene overheard Florence talking about her one day, and the poor lady spent the night in her chamber sobbing. She left the house the next day, claiming that a friend had phoned her and that she needed to return to Texas, and she never returned to New York after that.
Florence, on the other hand, would give her a gift every year for her birthday and phone to check if her grandchild enjoyed it. Florence, on the other hand, was unconcerned. “I didn’t have time to see it, Grandma,” she’d respond bluntly, “but I’ll let you know once I check it out!” and then hang up the phone.
Florence demanded that her parents throw her a big birthday celebration when she turned eighteen. Florence was a single child, and her parents adored her, so they gladly accepted.
Florence’s parents, on the other hand, did not support her when it came time to negotiate the guest list and Florence objected to Irene’s inclusion.
“That’s not right, honey!” exclaimed her mother. “Your grandmother is a big fan of you!” We’re going to invite her!”
“WHAT? “NO WAY!” exclaimed the speaker. Florence raised an objection. “SHE IS NOT GOING TO BE THERE!” I’m not going to celebrate my birthday if she’s there!”
“Enough,” her father declared strongly. “Are you aware that you’re about to step over the line?” She’ll show up, and you’ll be the one to invite her! Now is the time to call her!”
When Irene answered the phone, Florence pretended the call had not been connected and began insulting her. “As you can see, she isn’t answering her phone.” My buddies, on the other hand, would loathe her, Dad. I’ll invite her for your sake, but if she has any self-respect left in her, she won’t come!”
Irene was aware of everything, and that year was the first in which she did not send Florence a birthday present. It wasn’t, however, due of the terrible remarks she overheard on the phone from her granddaughter.
Irene only sent Florence a package a week after her birthday. She opened the package, curious as to why her grandma had sent the present so late, and saw an antique emerald studded ring. Ahh… What store did she buy such a cheap ring from? Florence muttered under her breath. Was she really expecting me to dress like this?
She shouted, “Ughh…Ugly thing!” as she tossed it on the ground. But suddenly it cracked open, revealing a little letter. It stated, “Look inside the ring box; there’s a key inside!”
Is she truly picturing me as a kid who likes to play games with her? As she checked the box, Florence scowled. However, she discovered a key and another small message when she lifted the tiny cushion that held the ring in place. “Go to the storeroom and open the drawer in your old cabinet,” says the narrator.
Florence followed the instructions, but she was frozen solid when she opened the drawer. A enormous package contained a stunning garment, an old photo album, and an envelope addressed to her on the top of the cupboard’s drawer. Florence took the letter from the envelope and began reading it.
“Dear Florence,” began the letter. “Wishing you many pleasant returns of the day, honey!” I’m sorry that I wasn’t able to send your present on time this year. Grandma Irene adores you and will never forget your birthday gift, as you know.
“Please express my gratitude to your father, who assisted me in concealing the gift inside the house without informing you. He is, however, completely oblivious that the package contains this letter. If you’re wondering why the present arrived so late, it’s because I’ve been sick and have been admitted to the hospital.
“I was diagnosed with cancer three months ago, honey, but I kept it a secret from you and your parents because I didn’t want to upset you.” I had a strange hunch that this would be the last time I saw you, so I wanted this present to be filled with your favorite things.
“Don’t forget to look through the photo album.” You were incredibly cute when you were a kid! Sorry for making Grandma Irene shame you for the rest of her life. At the very least, I hope you are content this time. “With heartfelt greetings, Irene.”
Florence hurried over to her parents, teary-eyed, as she finished the letter. She screamed, “Mom! Dad!” “Grandma has been admitted to the hospital!” We had to leave right now!”
“Honey, it’s too late,” her mother murmured, her eyes mournful. “Your grandmother died this morning.” We’ve just received a call.”
Florence collapsed to the ground, sobbing and clutching her grandmother’s letter, which she was holding with sadness. She sat next to Irene’s grave the next day, after everyone had gone home after the burial, reading through the photo album she’d given her. It was made up of images of them shot during Florence’s summer holidays at her house.
When Florence realized how joyful her grandma appeared in the images, she couldn’t help but cry. Her mind rushed back to all the times Irene had been lovely and generous to her, despite the fact that she had spent her entire life acting like a brat.
Florence visited Irene’s cemetery every year after that, but the shame she felt for not loving her lingered. She’d sit alone in her room every night, going through her photos and crying herself to sleep, wishing she’d loved and admired Irene as much as she admired her.
What can we take away from this narrative?
Before it’s too late, take action. Florence finally realized how much she loved her grandmother, but it was too late.
Be courteous and respectful to others. Unlike Florence, who spent her entire childhood making fun of her grandmother.