“My Grandfather’s Suitcase”

One example of a story that functions as a type of myth in my family would be the one regarding my grandfather’s suitcase. My grandfather passed away when I was thirteen years old. Before his death, his personality was best described as gruff. Not being known as having the most caring or most trusting personality, it’s not that surprising that he kept my grandmother out of the loop regarding their finances. According to him, they did not have any savings or money in the bank other than the small amount he received weekly from his retirement. My grandmother often worried about what she would do if anything ever happened to him. To this he simply replied that he wasn’t going anywhere yet.
Sadly, this was not the case. My grandfather passed away from a sudden heart attack while sitting in his recliner one Tuesday afternoon. My family grieved his loss, and also worried about how my grandmother would get by now. My uncle (my grandfather’s son) told us all that he did not believe that my grandfather had really left nothing behind. He told us how before his death, He and my grandfather had been sitting on the front porch of my grandfather’s house one day, discussing an issue of financial hardship for my uncle. My grandfather walked into his house, and came out with a large stack of hundred dollar bills for my uncle, to help him through his hardship. It was at this one and only time that my grandfather hinted about my grandmother being fine if she was ever on her own. My uncle then knew that there had to be more money lying in some secret hiding place. He told my grandmother what he knew of the money after my grandfather passed, and the whole family embarked on a real life treasure hunt.
They looked everywhere for his secret stash of savings, without any luck. My grandmother’s house had been sufficiently torn apart from top to bottom, and