Great Aunt Brenda

By Jessie Tornabe
 My great-aunt’s funeral, 
I sip tea, 
I eat rich foods, 
My great-aunt passed away, 
She gave all her stuff to people in her will, 
We listen for our names, 
To be called out, 
To get her stuff, 
My sister Rain gets her technology to play video games, 
My brother Jared gets jewelry although he wishes he could switch with Rain, 
Ma gets her clothes, 
No dad anymore, 
I wait for my name, 
“Lana”
They call, 
I get a bookcase, 
Rotted thing, 
She must have hated me, 
I say, 
I get her books too, 
She always liked me the least, 
I leave hurriedly, 
Running out of the room with a book, 
Titled When Auntie Says So, 
Not sure what that means, 
I feel the book, 
The spine is worn, 
I skim through the book, 
Quickly I turn the pages, 
Not knowing what I’ll see, 
I turn another page, 
And I am suddenly transported through a portal, 
My body shakes, 
Chilly, 
I say, 
I land feet first in a sandy, mucky basement, 
I look around, 
I see paintings, 
I see a sculpture that looks like Great Aunt Brenda, 
I look around, 
I feel something on my shoulder, 
I turn around, 
I see her, 
She gives me a hug, 
Explains that my present was the most important thing, 
That it meant I could visit her, 
Only me, 
She explained that I was the one who cared, 
Even though I thought she loved me the least, 
She loves me the best, 
I stay forever with her, 
No one cares, 
They all get the fancy stuff, 
But I get Great Aunt Brenda.
Art opposite page: Ibrahim Moge