Western Oz Words: Hidden Treasure
… The little house was full of surprises. I kept finding small stacks of money tucked away in the strangest places. In an old biscuit tin, a fat little nest egg of notes was hiding beside some mouldy shortbread. ... Margaret Dunn discovers stashes of cash as she searches through her Mother’s house.
I felt like an intruder, a thief, searching through my Mother’s house when she wasn’t there. But she wasn’t coming back and it was my job now to dispose of all these possessions she had gathered over many years. It had been a tricky situation coping with her strange behaviour, persuading her that the neighbours weren’t stealing all her clothes, and that she must not mow the lawn with the carpet sweeper. But at last the local authorities had found a place for her in a very comfortable nursing home, and here I was, making all the decisions that would close this chapter of my Mother’s life.
The little house was full of surprises. I kept finding small stacks of money tucked away in the strangest places. In an old biscuit tin, a fat little nest egg of notes was hiding beside some mouldy shortbread. A selection of crumpled notes was stashed in a box of old photographs. In the oven of the gas cooker a cake tin was spread with currency of the realm. Surely she wasn’t going to bake them! . At first I just came across these hidden treasures, then I was looking carefully, and finally searching frantically! The bedroom with its little cabinets, trinket boxes, and the wardrobe full of old handbags was treasure trove.
Living on her age pension, Mother had always pleaded poverty and I had believed her. I would bring her gifts of food, make special cakes for her, help to pay for new clothes. Maybe she believed I should be a dutiful daughter – though at that time I was surviving on a wee small income myself. But now wasn’t a time to feel bitter or resentful. Perhaps in her saner moments she had planned that I would find her treasure. This was my inheritance. Now I would have bars of chocolate in my fridge and a bottle of best malt whisky to enjoy on cool winter evenings.
As I went to visit Mother in her new residence I was happy to take little gifts she would enjoy – her favourite chocolates, lavender perfume. She didn’t always recognise me and was much more friendly than she’d ever been before. Perhaps dementia was a happy state of mind to slip into.
Later that summer I boarded a plane bound for the Greek Islands, feeling grateful that my Mum had been so careful with her cash and had lived so frugally.
Since that time, I have also been careful with my money, making sure I was stashing some away – in a bank account with good interest. While it’s true that money should be used wisely and saved carefully, we should enjoy the opportunity it brings to enrich and enlighten our lives. I have travelled widely and spent time in some fascinating countries, but I still have a long list of places to go and people to see.
And one thing is certain: when the time comes for me to make the last journey from my home – there will be no bundles of bank notes hidden in dark corners.
