The Necklace

“I remember that day as if it was yesterday”, he said as the reflection of the crackling flames from the fireplace danced in his dark eyes. A gentle breeze played with the emerging smoke of the cabin chimney as it faded into billions of beautiful paintings spread across the moonlit Canadian sky. His raspy voice broke the silence again as he scratched his snow-white beard.

“It was in 1943. I was a young lad, much like you…” I leaned back and got comfortable, hoping to get lost in another one of Grandpa’s stories.

“It was me and your great-grandfather. We were living in a humble cottage up in Cheshire, out in the boonies, really. Oh, I can still smell the sweet scent of the pine trees; I can still feel the wind grace my skin before it seeks a better place in the great beyond.”

He closed his weary eyes, leaned back in his oakwood rocking chair, and sighed. Silence filled the room; only the crackling of the firewood was singing its song to us. As he opened his eyes, I could see deep sorrow. The twinkling light faded as a dark shadow befell his face. “My mother…”, his voice trembled, and his hands began to shake. He took a sip of his tea. “She was gone. Five…five years before. I remember that night. Oh, it was a dark night indeed. I was just a boy. I…I didn’t know what was going on.” Silence.

In the distance, a nightingale sang good night to the forest. Grandpa lowered his head to his chest and mumbled on.

“Good Lord, why? She was gone, I remember, pale face, cold hands. My father stood there, his arm around my shoulder, saying: ‘Rest now, love! Rest now; you have fought so hard; close your eyes!’ All went blurry from then on. I lost perception of time. My head was spinning into places unknown. And it was in those days, I remember, my father told me: ‘Son, everything will be fine; we’ll see her again. Everything will be fine.’ I believed him, and he was right. Everything turned out to be fine. I finally started to find my feet on the ice, and I grew to be a young man, 15 at the time.”

I gazed into the fire, playing with the necklace around my neck. Grandpa had given me this necklace, and it seemed very dear to him. With my fingers, I traced the metal rods that formed the shape of a fish.

“And then 1943. Curse the year. Everything had turned out to be fine…so I thought. And then the Germans. I remember…” His body shook as his voice trembled in fear. He closed his eyes, and a tear rolled down his old and weary cheek. “Sirens, airplanes buzzing by…explosions left and right. People screaming and crying…Sirens. ‘Run, son! Run!’ Explosion... ’Take this son, I love you so’…” Grandpa mumbled.

“Those were his last words. There I was, standing, flames reflecting in my eyes, my dreams in ashes. All that I knew was gone. I turned and ran, as fast as I could. I just ran. I didn’t stop until I fell to the ground in exhaustion, holding on to what my father had given me for dear life. It was that necklace, lad. That’s all I had left of my life. A necklace with a metal fish on the end.”

The wind whistled a sad song as the fire reached out its warm fingers toward mine. My grandfather sat there in silence, staring patiently at the wooden floor. “What did you do then, Grandpa?” I heard my voice ask. He looked me in the eyes so deeply I could almost see into his soul; his hollow face hardened then softened again.

“Well, lad, I looked around, and I was lost. No, I am not talking physically, well, that too, but I was lost. I didn’t know…my head was spinning, tears were blurring out everything, all I could see were, were, well, were shadows. My soul had reached a labyrinth. I couldn’t tell where I was going. I saw my father. I walked towards him. Gone. There! my mother’s voice. Gone. Run! Run! Echoing through my head at a frequency I could not bear…All will be ok, son…A tear… Take this, son. I love you! Their voices in my head, their faces before my eyes, their touch on my skin. I fell to my knees as everything faded into dreams, into hopeless eternity, into places never to be ventured again, out into the great wild beyond. And so there I knelt, gripping that necklace, lost in the labyrinth of reflections, of extinguished hope, of closed doors that I knew were open. I wandered through that dark forest, leaving my destiny to my feet.”

He emptied his teacup and added some wood to the fireplace. “You know, lad, isn’t it amazing how all you need is one spark to start a fire? Something so grand starts with something so small. But once it catches, all I need to do is add a bit of wood, and it will go on forever…So I was tramping through a forest when I suddenly came to a lake…a beautiful lake, the moon was shining much like tonight. I walked out onto the dock and sat down. Carefully caressing the necklace, my thoughts were cleared, and I could hear my father’s voice: “Son, all it takes is a spark.” This necklace gave me that spark, that hope. Something of me was still left to spark a change in other people. And so I sat there. I thought about my mom, I thought about my dad, I thought about all I had lost, and for the first time in forever, I was grateful. I was grateful for life, for the opportunity I had been given through my parents to make my mark on this generation. And that I did, lad, that I did. And now I am giving this necklace to you as I am lighting a new spark, starting a new fire in your heart. I pass on this torch of hope to you. May it burn on forever!” He stood up and walked into the kitchen, humming, “What a wonderful world”.

And so here I was, sitting in this warm room by the fire and wondering… just wondering. I stood up and walked outside to the lake and onto the dock as the moon reflected in the water. I lay down and gazed at the stars in the heavens above. My thoughts turned to beautiful things as my fingers caressed the necklace. The last thing I heard was a nightingale singing me to sleep as my eyes closed, and my mind drifted to a world of hope and gratefulness.