How can that bitch sit there sobbing, acting so sorry for herself? After everything she's put this family through… I see right through her, every tear fit for crocodiles, and the false grimace to match. Lies.

I'm still seething as I approach the casket. So small. A casket so small shouldn't exist in this reality. As I reach in and touch my grandbaby's tiny fingers, I hear that she-beast sobbing louder. I grit my teeth.

Everything she does is for attention.

I could see through her the very first time my son brought her home… All eyelash extensions, and heavy makeup, and a laugh that flows forth a little too easily. I could tell then that there wasn't a real thing about her.

"Ma'am. Always a pleasure to see you, but I sure wish it were under different circumstances." The funeral director. A gentle, kindly man around my age. "I can't believe all you folks have been through this year."

"Thanks Silas. Really, you've been a comfort".

He's referring to the death of my grandson, just months ago, and my own husband, a few months before that. So much death. Thank God for him; though we hardly know one another, his kind demeanor has been an oasis in this landscape of unbearable pain.

The only people in my life now are my son and his bitch of a wife.

Just as I am (regrettably) reminded of her existence, I hear another melodramatic shriek. I can't take it anymore!

"Would you just fucking stop already?! This is all your fault! If you were a better mother, none of this would have happened". I gasp, even as the words leave my lips. Too late. I'm locked out of my own grandchild's funeral.

It's not long before Silas comes outside to check on me.

"Hey Miriam"

"Hey Silas"

"Got a little carried away?"

"Yeah, guess so"

He hugs me. Such a small gesture, but one which I desperately need.

I didn't mean to lose it, but that woman just gets under my skin. When they were alive, all she ever did was yell at those kids, for every little thing. And then, when my husband died she stopped letting me see them as often. She'd throw around false accusations that I was "unstable" or "untrustworthy". Me, their own grandmother! They were miserable.

Now, with Silas beside me, holding my hand in silence, I know I did the right thing. We're all happier now.

She was never fit to be a mother anyway.