They Held My Funeral While I Was Still Breathing. Then My Seven-Year-Old Nephew Looked Into the Coffin and Said, “Mommy, Aunt Madelyn Is Looking at Me”

And I heard Christopher move fast to get between her and the box.

“Gwen, please, don’t do this to yourself, you’re overwhelmed — ”

“Get out of my way.” My mother’s voice had changed entirely.

“Get out of my way, Christopher.”

And then her fingers were in the gap, and she shoved the heavy lid back, and the daylight came down on my face all at once, and I opened my eyes into the middle of my own funeral.

I have thought since about the fact that it was my mother who opened the box.