life is like a board game
turn 1.
a jump and a fall back to a stony floor, an attempt with a certain outcome.
turn 2.
a car crash, a gaze into the distance that won't cease, a never-ending stream like glitchy cable television.
turn 3.
slivers of light, extinguished. something strange in the water, difficult to pinpoint.
turn 4.
bitter but sweet. at least there's an end. maybe, just maybe, things will turn out alright.
Turn 4
When Grandfather died, he left me a safe. On my tenth birthday, I received my first letter. I don’t know how unique of an experience it is to receive posthumously sent mail, but it felt very surreal to me. The letter read:
Dearest Oscar,
If you are receiving this missive, I am no longer earthbound to celebrate your tenth birthday. For this I lament. I trust that you remember me fondly, as my only ambition as your Grandfather has been to be as unrestrained with my love and acquired wisdom as I am mindful that any criticism or judgment will turn to emotional rust which destroys the integrity of our relationship. You will have received the safe I bequeathed to you, and surely pondered its contents. The safe holds within the secret to living your best life. The combination is made up of five numbers. The first number is 10. Your next letter will reveal the second number. Always remember, my love for your transcends my life on earth.
Eternally,
Grandfather
Over the years, I tried to guess the numbers. Thinking perhaps they were all birthdays, I would experiment with the numbers of important, milestone birthdays. I would set the dial to 10, turn the dial left, try a mystery number, turn it right, another mystery number, turn left...you get the idea. Four turns, five numbers. No luck. With great anticipation I looked for a letter each birthday. Finally, the year I turned sixteen, I received my second letter.
Dearest Oscar,
Congratulations on your sixteenth birthday! I am sure you have tried to discover the secret combination. It is for this reason, your second number is 61. It will not benefit you to receive the contents of the safe before you are old enough to understand its significance. At sixteen, I imagine you tall and strong, handsome and resolute. Perhaps you have discovered your passion at an early age. More likely, you are playing with possibilities, endless possibilities.
As a teenager, you are now steering the ship that is your life. Perhaps your parents still have one hand on the helm, but you should have at least one, if not both. Your life will be built upon the small decisions you make, even more than the big ones. For small decisions become habits, and habits are the foundation of your life. If your foundation is weak, you will find your life crumbling before your very eyes. So be mindful of those small decisions, keep your habits positive, so that your foundation is strong enough to weather the storms into which you will certainly sail.
Always remember, my love for you transcends my life on earth.
Eternally,
Grandfather
Naturally, and apparently expectedly, I went on another round of zealous combination cracking. Again, to no avail. I had nothing but fond memories of Grandfather, and I held his letters and the advice contained therein close to my heart. I imagined what could be in the safe. What was this secret to living my best life? Knowledge? Money? Treasures of some sort? Property? I couldn’t imagine, but spent plenty of time trying. I turned 21.
Dearest Oscar,
It brings a tear to my eye, imagining you at twenty-one. Making your strong start in the world as a young man, having shed your teenage fears and insecurities. I am certain you are flourishing in college, doing the family proud and earning the respect and trust of your peers and professors alike. I hope you have had the pleasure and perhaps pain of your first true love.
Your youth a fading memory, old age an inconceivable prospect, you live in the now with gusto and abandon. Keep true to the kind nature and open heart of your youngest years while soaking up the knowledge and growth of spirit which underscores adulthood. Be mindful of the consequences of abandoning too much at once.
The third number of the combination is 21.
Always remember, my love for you transcends my life on earth.
Eternally,
Grandfather
In my 23rd year, I lost my father to a drunk driving accident (my father was sober). My Grandfather’s words struck me through the heart in the wake of this tragedy, “Be mindful of the consequences of abandoning too much at once.” Although I am not the one who acted with too much abandon, the consequences disrupted my peaceful reality. With only two numbers left, I thought perhaps I might crack the code now, and I spent many mournful moments in my old room with the safe, desperate with the need to know its contents, certain it would heal my broken heart. 10 - turn 1 - 61 - turn two - 21 - turn three...I still couldn’t crack it.
Year by year, I grew older, as prearranged by Life. I stopped at my third true love, marrying her and fathering three children by the age of 35, when I received my next letter. When we bought our house, I spent a good amount of money having the safe moved. The story of the safe became legend in our home and the children were determined safe-crackers. But Grandfather’s combination eluded us. Now, with the fourth letter to be revealed, only patience was required to crack the code. Bellies full of salmon and risotto washed down with chocolate birthday cake, we gathered in the living room to read my birthday letter.
Dearest Oscar,
At thirty-five you are surely a fine man, secure with knowledge of self and others. Taking the ups, downs, turns and loop-de-loops of life with the brilliance of Sirius A. I do imagine you with a beautiful family, perhaps sharing the legacy of the safe and what is locked inside.
As I disclose this fourth and probably finally needed number, I would ask you to consider what is missing from your life. What is there, that could be in this safe, that could improve upon the life you have created for yourself? I assume you have imagined, for many years now, the contents of the safe. As you read this fourth letter, perhaps you have accumulated the majority of the components you once thought could comprise the secret to living your best life to which I alluded 25 years ago.
The fourth number is 66. At this potential apex of your life, and possible dawn of your children’s lives, I ask you to consider what this quest for the combination of the safe has meant to you. I ask you, what can you gain from Turn 4?
Always remember, my love for you transcends my life on earth.
Eternally,
Grandfather