"...it feels like she’s sending me that message. She’s saying hello from where ever it is that she is." Quinn Eades reflects on Poetry Object 2018

When my sister and I were little we lived with our grandmother, because our mum was too unwell to look after us. My grandmother believed in ghosts and astral travelling. She was doing yoga in the 1940s (well before it was fashionable) and carried crystals in her pockets in the 1950s. She also believed there was an afterlife. My sister and I asked her to find a way to send us a message after she was gone, and she said she would.

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When she died, I was given three things: some antique silverware, an oil painting of white daisies, and a teardrop shaped crystal that hung on a piece of fishing line strung with blue beads. Now, when the sun hits her crystal, and throws rainbows around my bedroom, it feels like she’s sending me that message. She’s saying hello from where ever it is that she is. This is my inheritance.