Anthony Hanible

Auntie M.

The world feels thinner without you

Like someone quietly pulled a thread

From the center of the family

And the whole cloth loosened

You were the first doorway

Into the stories of who we were

Before any of us arrived

You carried the memories

That didn’t fit in photo albums

The whispered ones

The funny ones

The ones that made us proud

And the ones that made us human

Now the house sounds different

Quieter

Even the air feels cautious

As if it’s waiting for your laugh

To roll through the rooms

And remind us that everything

Even the hard things

Could be softened by your voice

I keep thinking of your hands

How they moved when you talked

How they folded towels

How they stirred pots

How they rested on your lap

Like they had already lived

A thousand small lifetimes

Grief keeps surprising me

It doesn’t knock

It just shows up

In a recipe you taught

In a song you hummed

In the chair you always claimed

Like it was made for you

And you alone

Sometimes I catch myself

Wanting to call you

To tell you something small

And unimportant

Because that’s what love really is

Isn’t it

The tiny things we shared

Without thinking twice

I didn’t realize

How much of my world

Was shaped by your presence

Until the shape changed

But love doesn’t leave

Just because the body does

You’re still here

In the way we speak

In the way we love

In the way we remember

What truly matters

You taught us that

You taught me that

Rest now

Auntie

Your stories are safe

Your love is safe

We’ll carry them forward

Not perfectly

Not the way you did

But with the same heart

You gave us

And when the family gathers

When the laughter rises

When the memories spill out

You’ll be there too

Quiet but present

Woven into everything

We still are