The letter came by way of invisible wires…..satellite…..transfusions…moving objects through air….time….and space…..a stamp would suffice…..

Your mother is not doing well and we don’t have a phone number, she wrote, We don’t know how much longer she has…….maybe days……maybe minutes…..that stroke did a number on her……

Candles were lit at St. Xavier’s, prayers were lifted up and forgiveness was asked….for what….who knows…..it just was…..a funeral of one…..

Remembering Southern ways…..old Christian values of Locust Bayou with a pitch-pipe to keep us in harmony….crackers broken for communion….grape juice drunk…..do this in remembrance of me….

There was guilt….forbidden taboos…..gardens a football field long…..summer sprays for mosquitoes down gravel back roads….a make-shift fort built in the backyard……secrets kept…..questions asked…..accusatory, We want to talk about your homosexuality, she held a gavel……him a punishment…..

There were hospitalizations……for craziness…..two brothers and a sister condemning to Hell for a non-conformist-life of running away here…..never settling there……homeless shelters…..psych wards….Damn’t, can’t you stay in one place? they’d all ask…..No…..no….no…..no…..

Your mother could die soon, the email said……..words from a sister-n-law…..too…too late….

You all died a long time ago……In the name of the Father….the Son….and The Holy Ghost…..

It never was…….