Thanks! It’s from my grandma

As a child, monthly visits to my grandparents’ house felt like being wrapped in warm laundry. 

The air was filled with the sound of my grandpa’s contagious laughter and wine glasses clinking while red droplets leaped for the tablecloth. My grandma always pulled me into her labyrinth of a closet where I was surrounded by endless fabrics, textiles and charms. Her closet was a tangible representation of my deepest fashion fantasies. 

The monthly visits became annual and evolved into an even more special experience as I got older. My grandma would hand-pick specific items she had outgrown and pass them on to me, accompanied by tales of her wisdom and travels. The items were placed with trust into my hands, assuring the stories embedded in her belongings would be carried forward by the next generation.

The summer before I left for college, she pulled a silver chain from the safe where she kept her jewels. The necklace, a tangle of silver animals and looped chains, sat cold and dense in my hand. 

It was kismet and I was instantly entranced. Adorned with two replaceable charms — a frog and a turtle — the necklace evoked a celestial connection. If inanimate objects could speak, I was attuned to their whispers.

The necklace has occupied my neck ever since, shielding me in the way garlic repels vampires or evil eyes protect from negative energy.

I’ve always believed in spirituality, even after incessant teasing from non-believing friends and my logical side screaming at me to remain grounded in reality. The necklace felt like a cosmic link between me and my grandma from the moment it was first placed in my hands.

To know my grandma is to love her, but not in the typical grandmotherly way where she bakes cookies and pours warm tea. When she enters a room, the air shifts and the aura transforms into a cabernet, warm wine shade. 

Her effervescence seeps into those around her, drawing them in to absorb her wealth of knowledge and grace. Her presence is unmistakable, permeating even inanimate objects with her energy’s touch and former possession.

Wearing her jewelry allows me to feel closer to achieving her effortless poise. My constant awareness of my unruly blonde hair and the snort that escapes my nose when I laugh feels genetically baffling when I think about the graceful woman who came before me. 

Life tends to get in the way of our formerly frequent visits, so we live our separate lives while I hop around Philadelphia’s nightlife with the token of my grandma’s love resting on my collarbones.

On a recent weekend rendezvous with my friends, a man approached me and asked for a lighter — not an uncommon request at 2 a.m. outside our favorite watering hole.

As I reached into my purse, he gasped and grabbed one of my shoulders. The stranger grabbed my necklace, telling me he was a psychic and that my necklace’s energy was calling out to him. He urged me to let him read me. I was skeptical about being robbed but simultaneously believed my beloved jewels were sorcerous, so I hesitantly agreed.

When he told me he could feel my mother and grandma’s energy through the necklace, my skin broke out in goosebumps. It seemed there was a blood-bonded tie between me, this inanimate object and the women in my life. He grabbed the necklace, closed his eyes and told me I had the same higher power within me — then he disappeared.

I’ll never see him again, but I don’t need to. Whether he was merely baiting me to get a hit of his cigarette or if he truly heard the necklace’s aura calling out to him doesn’t change anything. 

“It’s just a necklace,” I tell myself, trying to cope with the potential loss of it falling off unnoticed or breaking. 

I remind myself fashion is frivolous and I’m putting my grandmother’s love into an unliving, ungiving item. A necklace can’t possibly be sorcerous or protect me from the world’s cruelty.

I could spend the rest of my life questioning whether there is a deeper meaning to inanimate objects once possessed by my grandma, or I could put my faith in myself and the universe, trusting there is a transcendent energy within all of us that’s only discovered when you believe in it.

This necklace has been my first choice for interviews, dates and nights out throughout my nearly four years of college. I’ve watched strangers duck their eyes below my chin, their gaze landing on the shining pendant. My typical response to their compliments is a big grin, followed by, “Thanks! It’s from my grandma.”