Friday, December 19, 2008

good news

out of darkness, comes the light.

and sometimes from the most unexpected sources. those of you gentle readers who have been following my story from the beginning know that my grandmother left me saddled with a behomoth of a house at the jersey shore, situated on what is quite possibly the noisest corner in the entire town now, a rambling 27 room mansion the size of a battleship.

this thing has become the albatross around my husand's neck. it was my grandmother's desire that it pass out of our family and so, i have accepted it must be. it's time to let it go... in the midst of the worst real estate market since the depression, of course.

nothing my grandmother ever did made things easy. on anyone.

but today, we got a smidgen of good news, from the oil company no less. apparently there'd been no usage since the last fill up in september. that meant the heat was off, and they advised us to send someone to turn it on, lest the pipes freeze. but the really good news was that no usage and no change in the level of the gauge means no leaks.

of course there's no leaks, i can hear my great-grandfather, pop, scoff. he's the one who built the house. i can hear him grumbling on the Other Side: i sank that tank in the ground - you think i used some shit thing that would fall apart? for my own house? the rest is a mixture of english and italian, all unprintable.

i mentioned this to my father. i can't imagine pop would've put anything next to his own house that wasn't absolutely perfect, i said.

you're right, said my father. he probably lined it with rubber and sealed it in concrete. the ground around it will dissolve into the ocean before that tank ever leaks.

there was always something about my great-grandfather you could count on. today is the anniversary of his death. a small portion of the sale of the house he built will go to ensure the education of his great-great-great grandson. not a bad legacy for an illegal immigrant who swam ashore in new york harbor because he was a 13 year old runaway.

it's just a small synchronicity, but it's nice to know that even nearly a hundred years after pop put the oil tank in the ground, it's still tight as drum.


Martha said...

It sounds like your Grandfather built so much more than an oil tank. I remember with you on the anniversary of his death.

Thank you for your comment on my blog tonight, I can totally relate. My mother and maternal grandmother were full o'piss and vinegar with flashes of tenderness. My dad's mom, Rose, my sweet Pagan Grandma, What a Gal!

Lynette said...

I am sorry to hear you will have to let go of a legacy. But understand sometimes things do not work out the way we plan. And yes of course your grandpa would be scolding about any thought of a leak. Don't you wish todays home had such craftmanship?

Kathy said...

I have a very good feeling about the things to come. I see light. Unfortunately, I'm not psychic, but this is a pretty strong feeling. I hope your house will sell soon and your legacy will educate all of the children. Thank you for starting my day with a smile.

Patrice said...

What a great story! I was telling my hubby tonight about your great granddaddy and the lemons... in your spare time, you should write that one someday.

Wishing you luck on the sale!

john white said...

I didn't get to meet either of my grandfathers. Although, I guess I have small elements of them somewhere in me. I'm thinking maybe I'll see them one day when the time is right. Hopefully, not too soon.

Sounds like your grandfather was a good man.

Judy Vars said...

I'd love to see a picture of that old house.