Grief is supposed to unite families, but mine did the reverse.<\/p>\n
I scarcely buried my mother when my father made unexpected alterations.<\/p>\n
However, my father was unaware that my mother had left one last surprise.<\/p>\n
My mother died when I was 19. It was too fast. She laughed at a ridiculous reality show one minute and was too weak to lift a spoon the next. Cancer doesn\u2019t wait for goodbyes. But neither did my dad.<\/p>\n
Mom was warm and lovely in our house, and Peanut followed her everywhere. French Bulldog was her fur shadow, attached to her side. Peanut scarcely left her bed when she got sick, snuggling with her like he could keep her alive.<\/p>\n
I tried, but unlike Peanut, I had to eat, sleep, and pretend my father wasn\u2019t deleting her before she was gone.<\/p>\n
He never loved her properly. I never saw him touch her hand, bring her flowers, or gaze at her like a husband. In his latter days, he scarcely pretended.<\/p>\n
He nodded when the doctors said it was time. No weeping. No breakdown. Just nodded, as if commanded to fix the dishwasher.<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t want to go,\u201d I whimpered, grasping my cousin\u2019s black dress hem. Smelled like lavender and someone else\u2019s life.<\/p>\n
My father said, \u201cYou have to go,\u201d adjusting his tie in the hall mirror. His speech was bland, like we were going to a business meeting, not my mother\u2019s funeral.<\/p>\n
Swallowed. Peanut should come.\u201d<\/p>\n
He moaned in frustration. \u201cShe\u2019s a dog, not a person.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShe was Mom\u2019s dog.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd Mom\u2019s gone.\u201d<\/p>\n
My lungs collapsed at the words. Peanut\u2019s warm, quivering body touched my leg. Behind her ears, I bent down to scratch. \u201cI won\u2019t be long, okay?\u201d<\/p>\n
My fingers were licked.<\/p>\n
The funeral was a whirlwind of whispered condolences and stiff hugs. Others called me \u201cso strong,\u201d but I didn\u2019t feel strong. A hollow feeling. My father nodded like a to-do list, scarcely speaking. After coming home, he threw his tie on the counter.<\/p>\n
He said, \u201cThat\u2019s it.<\/p>\n
Just that? I snapped. \u201cMom died, and you\u2019re acting like\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cLike what?\u201d Her eyes were cold as she turned. \u201cDo I have to continue? Because I do. As do you.\u201d<\/p>\n
Peanut whimpered at my feet. Picking her up, I buried my face in her fur. \u201cGoing to bed.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cTake that thing with you,\u201d she said, taking a fridge beer.<\/p>\n
I scarcely slept that night. Peanut cuddled up next to me, breathing peacefully. I felt safe for the first time since Mom died.<\/p>\n
Until tomorrow.<\/p>\n
Silence greeted me home. Little paws not clicking on floor. No snorting excitement. Just my dad opening another beer.<\/p>\n
Something was off.<\/p>\n
\u201cPeanut?\u201d I dropped the bag and called. My heart was racing. \u201cPeanut!\u201d<\/p>\n
Nothing.<\/p>\n
I faced my dad. Sitting with his feet up, he watched the TV as usual. Like nothing changed.<\/p>\n
Where\u2019s Peanut? My voice shook as I asked.<\/p>\n
Not even looking up. \u201cI eliminated her.\u201d<\/p>\n
Tilted world. My skin cooled. \u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShe\u2019s gone,\u201d he sipped slowly. \u201cNot my issue anymore.\u201d<\/p>\n
Unable to breathe. Like he was speaking another language, his words made no sense. \u201cWhat, gone? She\u2019s where?<\/p>\n
Finally, he glanced at me with dull eyes. \u201cA shelter somewhere.\u201d He shrugged, as if discussing an old chair he no longer required. \u201cBetter there than my house.\u201d<\/p>\n
My body moved before my mind. Started running.<\/p>\n
Leaving. Down the road. To the car.<\/p>\n
I barely remembered the trip. Mom and I never left Peanut overnight. She must have been scared and confused.<\/p>\n
Hours passed. After three shelters, I discovered her.<\/p>\n
She shivered in a steel cage corner. She made a frantic whimper as her wide, dark eyes met mine. She shoved her little body against the bars, her tail pathetically flailing.<\/p>\n
\u201cPeanut,\u201d I inhaled.<\/p>\n
A melancholy expression came from the front desk clerk. \u201cCan I help?\u201d<\/p>\n
I\u2019m taking her home.\u201d My voice shook. She\u2019s my dog.<\/p>\n
A woman\u2019s expression changed. Sorry, but your father signed the delivery papers.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSo what? He lacked the right\u2026<\/p>\n
She sighed. You no longer own her legally.\u201d She hesitated, then softened. \u201cHer new owner will pick her up today.\u201d<\/p>\n
I wanted to fight, yell, act.<\/p>\n
It was too late.<\/p>\n
Peanut was gone.<\/p>\n
Silence lasted two weeks. My father rarely spoke to me, but I didn\u2019t care. Mom\u2019s house felt emptier than ever. No Peanut. No warmth. Only the ghost of my losses.<\/p>\n
Call arrived.<\/p>\n
\u201cThere\u2019s something you need to come here about,\u201d my mother\u2019s lawyer stated. His unintelligible voice made my stomach twist.<\/p>\n
My father was there when I arrived. His arms crossed, foot thumping the floor furiously, he scarcely addressed me. She was waiting, not mourning. Probably for money.<\/p>\n
Clearing his throat, the lawyer opened a folder. \u201cYour mother\u2019s will is very specific.\u201d<\/p>\n
My father straightened, eyes sparking with expectation.<\/p>\n
Holding breath.<\/p>\n
\u201cEverything she owned before the marriage remained exclusively hers,\u201d the lawyer said. Since her money was used to purchase everything in their marriage\u2026 Looking at my father, he halted. \u201cThat means everything benefits the sole beneficiary.\u201d<\/p>\n
Father leaned forward to collect.<\/p>\n
The lawyer faced me.<\/p>\n
\u201cPeanut.\u201d<\/p>\n
Silence.<\/p>\n
My father laughed loudly. \u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n
Lawyer didn\u2019t blink. Peanut received your mother\u2019s house, savings, and assets. Peanut now owns everything.\u201d<\/p>\n
Air changed in the room. My father tensed. I heard his raspy gasp.<\/p>\n
That\u2019s crazy! He shouted in disbelief. \u201cA bitch can\u2019t own anything.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cCorrect,\u201d the lawyer said. \u201cThat\u2019s why her legal guardian controls the estate.\u201d He looked me in the eye after closing the folder.<\/p>\n
It hit me instantly.<\/p>\n
Peanut was my charge.<\/p>\n
This meant I owned everything.<\/p>\n
Father\u2019s face contorted in anger.<\/p>\n
My first smile in a while.<\/p>\n
Dad turned pale, then red. His fists were on the table. I had never seen him cry before.<\/p>\n
This is a joke. Stupid joke, he said.<\/p>\n
Lawyer didn\u2019t blink. He simply slid the papers over the desk. Legally binding. Your wife spoke clearly. \u201cYou\u2019re not taking.\u201d<\/p>\n
I saw my dad panic. The jaw tightened and respiration accelerated. His eyes flickered between the lawyer and me, and he grasped the chair as if to cling on.<\/p>\n
Something clicked in his mind. He stood up hurriedly, scraping the chair on the floor.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019ll get the dog back.\u201d<\/p>\n
Smirked. \u201cBest of luck.\u201d<\/p>\n
Stormed off. I released him.<\/p>\n
Peanut was gone when he arrived at the shelter.<\/p>\n
Ashley, my mother\u2019s best friend, volunteered there for years. Peanut was taken home immediately when she saw her at the intake desk. My father mistakenly gave Mom\u2019s favorite pet to someone he liked.<\/p>\n
He had nothing left when he arrived to claim her stuff.<\/p>\n
By then, I left.<\/p>\n
Ashley accepted me as her own. Her home kept me safe, not simply alive. Loved. Though I had the house and money, Peanut was vital. She cuddled with me every night, content and safe from the man who never loved us.<\/p>\n
My dad?<\/p>\n
He was without.<\/p>\n
He earned it.<\/p>\n
My final words to him?<\/p>\n
Mom always knew you\u2019d be alone.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Grief is supposed to unite families, but mine did the reverse. I scarcely buried my mother when my father made unexpected alterations. However, my father was unaware that my mother had left one last surprise. My mother died when I was 19. It was too fast. She laughed at a ridiculous reality show one minute […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-30747","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/newzdiscover.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/30747","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/newzdiscover.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/newzdiscover.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/newzdiscover.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/newzdiscover.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=30747"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/newzdiscover.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/30747\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":30748,"href":"https:\/\/newzdiscover.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/30747\/revisions\/30748"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/newzdiscover.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=30747"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/newzdiscover.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=30747"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/newzdiscover.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=30747"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}