Last Words

The day before my grandmother died
I called her long distance and said I love you.
I'd been unkind to her the last time we were together.
Not intentionally--
Not deliberately--
Unkind, instead, because I was exhausted
and didn't appreciate the unasked for
tidbits of advice she tossed my way
as though she were feeding birds in a park.

But when I said those words
She gifted me in return.
"I know you do," my grandmother said.

I think of that moment today
after a friend tells me her grandmother's
last words were a deathbed curse.
You are a disappointment to this family.
I will leave my grave and haunt you
until you change your evil ways.

How would it be to die like that--
I wonder--
with venom dripping from your lips?