Stellar Remnants

My grandma was
the center of it all.
I called her
“mom”
until I was 5.

So much of her life
was kept hidden
from everyone,
those “sick secrets”
that are the hallmark
of unhealthy families.

Whatever had happened,
she basically spent
my entire life
caring for my
handicapped aunt,
and trying to
undo the damage
of my mom’s addictions.

When she died,
my aunts descended
and hatched a plan
to put my
aunt and mom
in facilities
and divvy up the rest
between themselves.

They asked me to
help them, too.
I agreed,
because whatever happened,
that was the best strategy.

When we found the will,
I immediately hid it.
It gave my mother
everything.
Of course it did.
She was the wounded
but able-bodied child.
Grandma was
always making it better…
right or wrong.

I wasn’t sure what to do.
It could be a death sentence
for my mom
to have that much money,
but my grandma
had spent
the last half of her life
keeping her daughters
out of facilities…
right or wrong.

The day before the funeral,
I took a nap
and woke
with the feeling
of my grandma
in the room.
I knew what to do.

Almost as if it were scripted,
my aunts showed me
just how little regard they had
for what she’d wanted.

She wanted a closed casket?
Open.
My mom gets into a fight
with them?
My aunt cuts a wrestling promo
in my voicemail.
I announce the existence
of the will?
It’s invalid,
and they’ll prove it.

No regard for anything
except the carcass
rotting on the ground,
and how to get some meat
into their beaks.

So my aunt stayed free
until the day she died,
and my mom may
lose the house
at some point,
but she’s still there
a couple years later.

I regret nothing.

She was the sun,
and the only reason
you thought she was gone
was an illusion
created by
the turning of the earth.

Your egos
don’t supersede
the light.

-GD Butler

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