“You should have this.”

“No, grandma. You have been wearing it for the past sixty years. Why such a thought now?”, I asked indignantly, as I fluffed the pillows on my bed.

“It’s customary to pass on heirlooms across generations. I wish for it to stay in the family when I go.”,she replied, her voice as serene as the wind. She was all tucked in.

“Agreed, but it’s too early for all that.”, I replied hastily, pushing away some uneasy thoughts.

I continued, “And in any case,you have enough and more people to pick from. You should take more time and think about it. Sleep now.”

She said nothing.

The next morning, the skies were as grey as my thoughts. I just couldn’t fathom that yesterday night’s conversation was my last with her.

“So we should believe that the ring just vanished?”, someone’s angry whisper rang out loud. The hushed discussion continued. There was palpable disappointment in the air.

I never knew that it was such a sought after object. My fingers closed in on the cold metal in my pocket. How did it get there? There was no way she could have moved towards my bed without help.

I walked off in the direction of the washroom, murmuring an excuse. I could feel the scorching, accusing glares bore into the back of my head. I felt sick. 

Bolting the door, I took out the ring to look at it. I missed her so much already.

Beneath the patina of the ring, I caught a momentary glimpse of her serene smile. Her last words echoed in my head.

“I will pass it on, grandma. It won’t go to anyone else.”, I promised her spirit. 

Picture courtesy : Pinterest