Is it true that money can't buy happiness?

Author Name
Answered by: Frank, An Expert in the Family and Home Life Category
They say money can't buy happiness and for a long time I didn't fully believe that. For me money meant opportunity, a chance to create happiness. My Grandfather showed me that true happiness isn’t found in money, but found in relationships with family and friends.

When I was younger my Grandfather would always give my sisters and I one hundred dollars for our Birthdays and for Christmas. A hundred dollars seemed like a lot of money back then when I had never touched anything more than a twenty. Of course I began to grow up and started to understand the concept of a lot and a little. One hundred dollars started to look like less and less, and eventually it became a habit: Birthday, Christmas, $100. I was young and selfish and said thank you because it was the right thing to do, but it never had much meaning behind it. My grandfather was getting older and becoming ill and that's when his will was mentioned. In my mind that only meant one thing... more one hundred dollar bills.

I had never spent much time with or talked to my grandfather, so this seemed like a perfect opportunity to be added onto his will and possibly give myself the best part of it. It always felt like a stranger was staying in our house when he came to visit, so I made it my mission to talk with him, please him, and give him a reason to add me on to his will.

Every day I came from school I would lie down on my bed and call my Grandfather. I never had anything particular to discuss with him so the conversation would always start with me telling him how my day was, and what I learned at school. Then once the conversation slowed I would ask him to tell me a story about being in the military or someone interesting he met. Then at the end we would say goodbye and I love you.

As the days went by I continued to make the phone call making sure to not forget, and each time we said goodbye I looked at the call time; what was once a twenty minute phone call became an hour and a half. The phone calls became a habit; I was like a kid begging for a bed time story. It eventually got to the point where we could have a conversation like two best friends, never having a dull moment or nothing to talk about. Unfortunately it came to a screeching halt when my grandfather became very ill and was too weak to leave his bed. I got to see him in person a few more times; I would sit next to his bed and remind him of all the things we talked about. I could never get a verbal response from him but I could see an occasional smile come across his face.

The day came when he passed away and the will was revealed. I never did get my name put on it but he did write me a letter. In his letter he explained how I made each of his last days joyous and worthwhile. At that point I didn't care about the will; I had gotten a whole lot more out of each phone call than some money could have provided. Sure, I didn't get his final hundred dollar bills, but I did get his final words, something no one else will have. It was then I realized money can't buy happiness, so on the day of his funeral when I approached the open casket I pulled out the last hundred dollar bill he had given me. I tucked it into the pocket of the suit he was wearing; it was for the 100 days I had called him and on the back of the bill I wrote, "thank you."

Author Name Like My Writing? Hire Me to Write For You!

Related Questions