My Grandma’s Amulet

We are born, we live and one day we all die.

Grandma Oma looked beautiful even when she slept. I watched her from the corner of the room, where she slept with a relaxed blissful smile on her lips as my father and his brothers covered the lid of her casket. She had once shown me her old photograph, the one taken in her 20s where she stood smiling. Her left palm waving at the camera while holding an umbrella with her right. Her pretty curls flowing down to her waist. I could still picture that younger version in her, despite her being 110 years old now.

She lived a long and healthy life but it still pains to think she’s gone. She was the person I spent most of my time with. Now there’s time in plenty, but without her it all feels meaningless. I know I ought to be happy that my grandma could live this long and that I got to spend a lot of time with her, instead my heart feels heavier with each passing second. Like there is this void in me that can never be healed no matter how much time I get in excess. I stood watching as everyone performed all the rituals to give her final goodbye. Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring everything in front of me. I don’t think I could ever muster up the courage to say a final goodbye to her. I would do anything to hold her back with me and never let go, yet there was nothing I could do. That’s how fragile human lives are. We are born, we live and one day we all die. A truth none of us want to accept or even think about. I never knew how much feeling helpless when you truly wanted to do something, hurt. I wondered if there is any truth to the saying “Time heals everything”. How long a time will I need for me to heal from this loss. Will I ever be happy like how I was before , when I had her in my life? Will I ever stop feeling this heaviness I feel right now? Will I ever learn to live without her? Who knows?

Having to live the rest of our lives alone without our loved ones, is indeed the worst thing that could happen to us. It’s when the harsh reality sinks deep into us that no matter what we do, we can never wake up from this nightmare for the rest of our lives and start over.

That evening, I went back to Grandma Oma’s room. I sat on her soft bed, looking at the door opposite to the bed, hoping she would just walk into the room, opening the door. Time went by, but nothing happened.

“Grandma Oma is no more, she’s gone” I tried telling myself weakly though it still sounded unbelievable as I said it. Her books were piled neatly on the table next to the bed. Everything was just as she liked them to be, except her specs that was still haphazardly kept on the book she was reading last before she fell to the floor- it was a heart attack.

I put my hands through her things on the table. She always smelled of roses and baked chocolate cookies. Two things she absolutely cherished in her life. Roses were grandpa’s favourite and cookies were hers. As I stood, my hands brushing through the neatly stacked books on her table, I could still smell roses and baked chocolate cookies near me like it always did when she sat on the chair reading while I lay on the bed listening to her stories.

As I turned to leave, a crumpled pouch with my name on it, hidden in between her books caught my attention. I pulled it out to have a closer look at it. It was a grey old pouch. There was a wooden rectangular box inside it , about the size of my palm. I opened the wooden box, not exactly sure what to expect. Could it be a message from her? or May be she meant to hide some cookies for me, for today’s game of hide and seek. This was our favourite game. The closer I got to the hidden item, she would use the code word “Hot” and the farther I remained she called out “Cold”. She hid things, and I was supposed to find them, that’s how we always played. We then sat for hours together discussing our game, talking about how hard or easy it was to find the place she chose to hide them.

Opening the wooden box was nothing like I had expected. Was this part of some game she wanted to tell me about, but couldn’t? Or was this just something she wished to give me? I looked at it wide-eyed, it was an oval shaped emerald amulet. It was exquisite. Taking a closer look, I noticed how the emerald part actually moved , like the amulet was not just made of emerald stone, but was filled with dark green liquid swirling inside it, to be more precise it looked exactly like our milky way galaxy except that everything was green. I was still holding it with the cloth that covered the stone. I pulled out the note I saw on the pouch with my name on it. It said:

This is for you Jude. Keep it a secret but use it well.

I will always love you,

Grandma Oma.

Her handwriting on the note felt more precious than the emerald amulet. Before I knew, tears rolled down my cheeks and a drop fell on the amulet. I tried wiping it , but the stone had already absorbed it. For a second there, I thought I actually saw the tear blend into the swirling green liquid inside the amulet.

Holding the amulet in my right palm ,I wiped my tears with the back of my left arm. “This I will cherish all my life and keep it close to me, Grandma Oma . I’ll keep this our little secret.” I said looking at her note. With that I took the Amulet and wore it over my head, the cold stone touching my chest as it lay around my neck, hidden inside my dress.

“ That’s my little Jude, I knew you would find my Amulet.” said a familiar voice behind me.

I jumped to turn around as I couldn’t believe I was hearing this voice again. A voice, I never thought I would ever hear calling my name again.

“Grandma Oma” I ran to give her a hug. How are you here? Does this mean you are not dead? I asked her hope glinting brightly in my eyes.

“No darling Jude, I am dead and I shall remain dead ” said Grandma Oma with a slight chuckle.

“But I can see you and touch you” I cut in with slight disappointment, before she completed her statement.

She nodded, smiled and said “ Yes my dear. That Amulet you are holding is why you can see and hold me” .

I felt the Amulet through my dress, then I pulled it out to look at it while it’s string still remained around my neck. Then I looked up at Grandma Oma. I kept quiet , as I didn’t want to interrupt her.

“That Amulet is our family heirloom, my dear” It was given to me by my grandma and she got it from hers. You are supposed to pass it on to your grandchild. When you come to my age, the amulet will speak to you. It knows to whom it should go next. It’ll tell you and you are to do accordingly. For now, it’s yours Jude. Keep this a secret and use it well.

I looked at her open mouthed as I couldn’t believe anything she was saying.

She walked to me and touched my left shoulder, as if she could sense my disbelief. She then continued talking, “ you now know how it works , don’t you?”

I stared at her having no clue what she was talking about.

“ Didn’t you think of me and cry when you had the Amulet with you. Did you see the tear blend in with the liquid within it? “ she asked me looking straight at me. Like she knew my answer before I even replied.

“Yes, I did” I said simply.

“ That’s exactly how it works Jude. This is the Amulet that let’s you see the dead. Death is our friend Jude , an old friend, who’s given our family a job to do. We are to act as gatekeepers between the dead and the living. As a token of appreciation of our work that we do, we are given a boon and that is to be able to see our loved ones even after they die.”

Then her face turned grim, “But remember Jude, do not use it as you wish. It always comes with a price. Use it only when it is absolutely necessary. We do not have the choice of not taking up this job or to not pass it on to the coming generations, but we do have a choice of not choosing to use it unnecessarily. Owing a debt to death is a tricky path to take and using this amulet often is doing exactly that.”

©Aswathi Ashok 2021. All Rights Reserved.

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