My paternal grandmother was a catholic, quite a serious one... every night I was at her house, were the nightly prayers. An "Our Father", and a "Hail Mary". She had this little shrine, set up with a couple of saints, and a blessed mother, which are now in one of my closets. I should probably give them to a relative who's actually a catholic in more ways than just baptism- but, they were so important to her, and I can't do that just yet.
For as long as she had it, for as long as I can remember, there was this brown "necklace", with 2 plastic covered tabs. It always hung off the cross on the top of it, was always there, and for decades, I never asked what they were.
Time passed, the world spun, people died. She outlived her husband, her son, her sister, her closest relatives, then both her nephews, she ended up moving upstate with us, eventually getting her own apartment... Even though she was an in-law to my mom, my mom was like a daughter to her. Even though she was the mother to my mom's first husband, my stepfather accepted her like she was his own mother. In fact, he was the one who initiated the conversation when we were all thinking it, that she needed to come upstate to be with us.
At the end, she told my stepfather, and this is a direct quote- "I may have lost the boys, but God gave me another son".
But, back to those tabs.
My grandmother ended up getting an ulcer, a bleeding ulcer, one that needed surgery or she would die. The doctors assured us that it was a very simple procedure, but she was refusing to have it done. I spoke to her, telling her it would be rough for a few days after the surgery, and I understood her not wanting to go through it after having been through so much, but that not having it done would just be more and more agonizing.
And it would have been... I won't go into details of what would have happened, but, it would not have been a good way to go.
She agreed to the surgery, and then asked to speak to me alone. She told me she wasn't going to survive it, and where her will was. She told me she was done fighting and was ready to see the boys and her sister again. She said a bunch of other stuff which I wouldn't put here, but every time I told her the surgery was simple, that she'd be ok after- she told me no. She would not wake up from it.
And a part of me knew she was right.
And she was.
We stood vigil by her bedside, myself, my mom, my boyfriend at the time, my stepfather, and a young teen who was visiting me, waiting for her to wake up, talking to her in case she was able to hear us... just holding her hand so in no way, shape or form, would she feel alone, abandoned.
It started to bug me, as she started to obviously fade, that she wasn't awake for last rites. The priest did come, but she wasn't able to confess her sins, and I knew, if there was any awareness at all- and there was plenty of brain activity according to the EKG, that she would be so upset that she couldn't confess that it would make her passing, if she was going to pass, far more stressful than it otherwise "should" be... then, I remembered those tags, and that a couple of months before she had told me what they were for.
They were supposed to be taken from someone's robe, from somewhere. A saint I think, or a famous priest, or a monk... "If you die, while holding these, and are truly repentant, you will go directly to heaven." The impression I got was even if you didn't get last rites, you'd still go to heaven.
Now- I won't go into what I think about the idea that would let people into heaven for holding onto leather and cloth, and let another person without those tabs, who is of the same moral character go to Hell... but this sentence should give an idea what my opinion is-
When she had explained it to me, I had laughed and said "Oh! They're 'Get Into Heaven Free' cards!", now, considering it made me think of "get out of jail free" cards, "Get out of Hell Free" was more accurate, but I knew if I put it that way, I would have just really upset her- as it was, she was annoyed I put it so flippantly, but, her annoyance was minor, and even she had to chuckle at the thought of it.
But, what I think of it didn't matter. It's not my faith, but all of a sudden, I had this horrible urgency to run back to her house to get those tabs, that if she knew she had those tabs, on any level- if she was worried about going to Hell for not being able to confess, that may alleviate. The idea of her thinking that her soul might be in danger, on any level was unbearable to me, and while I was terrified of leaving her side, I went on my run.
It may very well have been the longest hour of my life.
My boyfriend at the time went with me, and giving into the begging, I picked up the young teen who didn't want to be left at home. I ran into my grandmother's apartment, and while grabbing the tabs- asked the universe, God, whatever, that I was right and the tabs would give her some comfort, even in this state, and raced back to the hospital.
When I got back, we went to her room, and I carefully wrapped the leather cord around her hands- so they wouldn't drop, and put the tabs in her palm. I wasn't sure if there was a specific way to hold them or not, so I figured, the more in the hand, the better- I told her I had returned, and that I had gotten her the "'Get into Heaven Free' thing", knowing if she could hear me, that she'd know what it was. I don't remember what it's actually called to this day- I told her not to worry, I wasn't going to let anything happen to her soul... and folded her hands together so the tabs would stay in place.
At this point the teenager and my boyfriend decided to go on a food run to the hospital's cafeteria for us, since we were all tired and worn out- which, was a very good thing- Not 10 minutes went by, and she started to pass, and I'm glad the young teen didn't see that.
I won't go into details of what happened, seeing someone you love pass is never an easy thing, be it from something violent, or something like this, but a part of me really thinks she was at least partially aware, and was able to let go once she felt she would be reunited with her family... the thought of her going to Hell is absurd, she was the most caring, and giving person I've ever known- and even if she had some old fashioned ideas about certain things, she would help people regardless of race, or sexual orientation, and only prayed for good to befall people...
So, tonight, I walked into my Aunt's bathroom to change for the night, and hanging on the hook on her door, were the "Get into Heaven Free" tabs. (I prefer to call them that despite the "title") I had forgotten I had given them to her, I forget when- but I did, and in under a second- all that came back to me, washed over me, and for an instant I was back in the hospital giving them to my grandmother.
And again, I was thankful I had thought of it, and that I succeeded. There is a chance even without the tabs, she would have passed at that time, and if she had without them, I would have felt guilty about it to this day.
