a letter addressed to you came in today.
i tore it open to see it was a life insurance plan.
not that you need it anymore, since you're gone.
not that you would have been able to afford it anyway,
your meager government income wouldn't have allowed it.
you were a woman who made ends meet,
by cutting any corner she could and never splurging.
even after you moved in with me,
you refused to treat yourself to nice things,
so i made sure to treat you to nice things instead.
a letter addressed to you came in today.
i tore it open to see it was an offer for a credit card.
not that you need it anymore, since you're gone.
not that you would have been able to use it anyway,
your lifestyle wasn't luxurious or extravagant.
you were a simple person of simple pleasures,
the love of your grandchildren was all you needed,
and i was happy to provide it to you,
even when you could no longer recognize me,
because you cared for me before i could care for myself.
a letter addressed to you came in today.
i tore it open to see it was a piece of political propaganda.
not that you need it anymore, since you're gone.
not that you would have found a use for it anyway,
your political views were set in stone ever since the reagan administration.
and that's why i never let you find out about me.
that i was anything other than cishet.
it would have eaten at you and would have made you hate me,
your favorite grandchild, who always spoiled you,
and loved you no matter how much you hurt me with your beliefs.
a letter addressed to you came in today.
i didn't tear it open.
instead, i just tossed it.
maybe this is what you call moving on.
maybe it's me growing numb to losing you.
maybe this is just learning to cope.
the letters won't stop, i know this.
and i'll always remember you when they come.
even if it's in a cynical way, thinking;
"she's been dead for years, why do they still send these?"
anyway,
happy birthday mima.