The Treasure

/ roughwighting

https://pixabay.com/illustrations/treasure-chest-gold-coins-open-8061312/ Darkmoon_Art My grandmother, Nanny, died when I was 5, but I loved her with all my young heart. Even as a kindergartener, I could tell she was a gentle, kind, sweet, loving soul.

Since she died, I’ve talked to her in my head every so often, but she’s never visited me in my dreams. So, imagine my surprise when I wake up from a dream at four this morning with Nanny speaking urgently to me: “It’s behind the backyard at 525 Cramston. Go!” 

“What’s buried?” I ask in my dream state.

“It’s time. You need it now. The treasure.”         

“Why now?” I insist, but kind sweet gentle Nanny gets a bit peeved with me.

“The treasure, behind the old house. GO dig it up. NOW! You’ll see. You’ll see.”

It’s six hours since my dream and I’ve driven from MA to NJ. Traffic is surprisingly light, even through CT and the Tappan Zee (Cuomo) Bridge.

I turn the car off in front of our family home at 525 Cramston in the tiny town where I grew up. The house has shrunk! In my childhood eyes the three-bedroom, two-story home was spacious. But now I see it’s probably only about 1200 square feet. The front yard is covered with brown, uncared for grass. The lean-to over the blacktop driveway tilts crookedly. Created by Bing Co-Pilot Design, face behind windwo

A face peers at me through the upstairs window – my bedroom window many years ago.

I knock on the front door but no response. Shrugging, hearing Nanny’s insistent dream voice in my head, I pull out the small spade I’d brought in the car and walk quickly to the backyard.

Created by Bing Co-Pilot Design, buried shoeboxFor some reason, I head straight to the furthest back right corner and begin to dig. Oh right! There’s the shoebox I buried 55 years ago. I’d nursed a robin with a broken wing, but she died. I had placed fresh green grass in the bottom of one of my shoeboxes and buried her in tears and prayers.

Now, as I pull out the box, a disheveled man roars out of the house’s back door, bellowing, “Hey, what are you doing? I’m calling the police!”

Ignoring him and still kneeling, I breathe in and open the box.

A bird flies out – a robin like none I’d ever seen. Bigger, brighter, with a scarlet red breast and a twinkle in her eyes. She swoops up toward the sky and then dives down at the man, who steps back, turns, and runs inside. flying robin, Created by Bing Co-Pilot Design

The robin then glides toward me and sits on my shoulder. “She sent me,” the robin tweets. “I’m your muse. Let’s go, we have stories to write.”

Am I most amazed that I understand her, or that she flew out of the box, or that my grandmother sent me a muse? Which would you be?

94 thoughts on “The Treasure”

    • I think about the little birds or critters I tried to rescue and then buried with love and prayers in my childhood backyard and I hope that somewhere they are out there flying and singing, and surrounding us with thankful love.

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  6. Beautiful story, Pam. I’m amazed–and not–at all of it. And I choose to believe it all happened exactly like this. Too bad I didn’t know you were around or I could have met you for lunch–or maybe witnessed the event!

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  8. I remember my Grandma loved to read and she would recount in Cantonese each dramatic Chinese romance/drama./murder./thriller to me accompanied with all the drama in her voice. I always think that’s why we are all readers in my family.

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  15. I think you should make an appointment with your therapist. (Haha. Just kidding.) But it makes a great story. Things that stay in our head for years can sometimes demand to be resolved. I can think of a few things from my childhood that I would love to revisit.

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  18. Wonderful story, Pam. I would be both amazed and thrilled. Think that she woke your muse.
    Having been close to both my Grandmothers I know the gift they have to give. 🤗

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    • I knew my paternal grandmother much longer than my Nanny and we got along well, but there wasn’t the same kind of connection. I feel badly about that because I found out that she wrote romance novels secretly and kept them in her bedroom drawer. I think if we had a chance to know each other now, (me as an adult), I’d really enjoy talking with her. You are very lucky to have been close to both of your grandmothers.

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  22. It’s all amazing. I’d love to have my grandma talk to me in a dream–either of them. I was very close to one. I never met the other. She suffered from schitzophrenia when she lived in Vancouver, B.C. , and the Canadian government sent her back to Ireland when my dad was still a child. It wasn’t until I was an adult that I started thinking about her and wishing I could see her.

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    • My heavens, I bet the grandmother you never met has quite a story to tell. I’ve heard that if we ask an ancestor to come to us in our dreams, there’s a chance they will. Maybe you should try. 💛

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  27. I really enjoyed reading this story from you, Pam. Had me reading and yearning for the next line (after line) to see how it will pan out. Felt suspense from start to finish. And I think there’s some part of us that longs to figure out what our dreams mean. Also think you brought out the kid and inner child in the protagonist very well. We all just want to believe in magic and be a kid again. Wonderful writing ❤

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  32. Hmmmm …. I think I’d be pretty surprised that my Nanny thought I had the courage to go digging in a stranger’s backyard! But if the dream were that clear, I might not be surprised at the rest.

    It’s no longer the Tappan Zee Bridge? Oy.

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  34. I was reading the story with all my heart
    My grandma was a mother for me with all the meaning of motherhood love ❤️
    I am lucky that she lived until I became a mother
    still hope she will talk with me one day.
    Thank you.

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    • Your comment means so much to me! Thank you for letting me know that my story reached your heart. I hope you hear from her also whether in your dreams or through some fascinating message. 💖

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Always a pleasure to read your thoughts.