After you died

I needed a name for you
To tell people who died
I had no name for you that felt true to me
That un-languaged gap
Says everything and nothing

The day you died, 

my mother wept first over your unpublished findings.

She finds solace in the words

of mentees you intimidated.

She has always found solace

in being a little bit above. 

You'd have respected me if I belittled you,

but I've cut that habit. 

You didn’t like me

You didn’t really like anyone

That was kind of your thing.

At least, that’s what mom said when I

mentioned that you never, in 25 years,

wished me a happy birthday.

No one speaks bluntly about

how a dead person was mean.

People say "quirky" instead.

I get a quick nod and a sigh, "Oh, yes."

when I say, "Warmth wasn't really his thing."

I visited a lot in your last years

I spent the money

I came to your home, 

I didn’t push

It seemed to annoy you if I talked about

Things that were meaningful to me

I ate your food, I was your guest.

I didn’t speak up when you belittled us.

The love she felt for you was real

I see her grieving so.

In her imagination, you are kind.

In her imagination, but to no one else,

You were a golden retriever.

You were her beloved elite neuroscientist.

You were her beloved judger of other scientist's methods. 

Her gourmand golden retriever window into a dream class.

I'm looking for the words for why science is so central here.

It's not new or interesting, but it's central. 

The culture of science, the religion of science. 

Feelings aren’t her thing either.

Of course, feelings have to go somewhere.

So I've had them for both of you.

I've been a foil,

Not a daughter 

(Not to mention, mostly very young)

I'm still paying the price 

for having once been a child

I try to tread lightly

and fail

I'm so damn full of feelings

In contrast to you,

I am such a relentless bother. 

I made the escape to you more sweet

And peaceful 

You took it gladly

You took so much of her 

No one ever confused this for a family

Family wasn't really your thing

And I never blamed you

You’re fucking welcome