Return it to Sender

What good are twenty thousand dollars, when it means you have lost everything? What comfort will it bring to me to spend it? Or save it even? I'm not even quite sure what I could truly change with it. I can't call him back to me. I can't turn back loss.

We made up money! As a society, we decided that this "money" was more important than everything. More important than nature, more important than health and love and people. I would give it all back! I would gladly still be wondering from where my next rent payment will come, if only it would take my despair back with it.

People often wish for things in times of need, without remembering the cost. People often forget that all things, good or bad, pass us by. They do not stay... We all forget.

The wind has always had a way of telling me when something is not as it should be. I remember feeling the wind come, hearing it howl in pain, seeming to blow through my tin house and my soul... "Oh no.", I thought to myself... and I hurried to get my kids preoccupied with something to buy some time. I had just gotten my oldest's headphones working when I heard it. My phone was ringing. I had known it would.

"Hi.", I said, my voice much more stable than it should have been.

"Hey, honey... ", my grandmother's firm yet compassionate voice sang out, full of affection and understanding. "It's over."

"I know, I felt it just now..."

"The funeral is Saturday. With covid... we will have to send you a link. We had so many children, and well, we are at capacity."

"I understand. I love you. See you Saturday."

"I love you too, dear. Hang in there."

Then I was mist and fog. Not here. Not out.

Then it was Saturday.

Then it was the reading of the will.

Now I am staring at the four zeroes on this check I am adding to my account.... and I am emptier still. I can now afford to purchase my tiny home, I can pay my debts, achieve stability for my family. I may not have to worry, (for a bit) if my car breaks down or my husband gets sick and has to take a day off of work. I likely can even afford now to purchase something for myself without feeling dread. I am grateful for these things, it was all I needed. Still, all I need. I am happy to have a sense of balance in this regard, however, I'd be happier still to just have my grandfather's light shine down on me once more; we have all been living without it for so long, I don't know if any of the family knew how to react when it was fully extinguished.

It was almost easier for me that he didn't remember me when I visited. He still shone love on us all, but I could tell he had forfeited his memory of me. For years I knew he was lost to me and had hoped it would make his death more bearable. It did not.

A short time before the call, I had stopped to see him. I was frantic and distracted, trying to find my keys, and found myself instead circling my hand around and around a little black book inside of my purse. I recall stressing about dinner and feeling too run down to cook (even if, by some miracle, I did figure out what I was going to make). I came into the house and visited for a short while with my grandmother,  reminding myself to stay longer than last time; she needed me too. Just then grandpa made a noise and we went and checked on him, I remember thinking he looked much better than on my last visit. My thoughts were interrupted as my grandmother worried over med time and left the room.

"Grandpa, I love you so much!", I remember saying to him as I turned towards where he lay in bed. I expected to see a vague smile and look of frustrated confusion behind his eyes, furrowed into his familiar brow.

I saw every shade of love in them instead. "I love you too.", he said motioning for me to come closer with a weak wave of his hand. He pulled me in, so close to him, and cried with me. I think he was trying to tell me it was ok, but how could it be? "I love you too.", he said again, with so much emphasis somehow in his weak whisper.

Can I just give this check back?

Return it to sender?