In My Bully, My Aunt, & Her Final Gift, writer Harold Phifer openly shares childhood experiences with both boldness and wit. The story begins with the author working as a U.S. Military contractor in Kabul, Afghanistan when, one morning, “old-fashioned gospels” unexpectedly blare from his digital device and then his hometown pastor calls moments later. It’s as if, somehow, his dearly departed Aunt Kathy had literally cued the music on her way to glory. Aunt Kathy needed to be eulogized and Phifer wants no parts of it, even as Pastor Keith, the proclaimed Minister of Mississippi, held onto the hope that “Brother Hal” would come through for Zion Gate Union Baptist. Once the author cautiously agrees, he makes the necessary travel arrangements that land him at Dallas Fort Worth International Airport and into the car of Deya, his longtime companion, who drives with him from Texas to Mississippi on Aunt Kathy’s behalf.

After Hal’s arrival in Columbus, Mississippi, he spends time reconnecting with family and church members before the memorial service. What the deceased ninety-six-year-old Aunt Kathy, in all her evil and manipulative ways, left behind was a renewed sense of relationship among Hal and his brothers, Jerry and Tommy, something Aunt Kathy spent the greater part of her life undermining and undoing as she pitted brother against brother for her own selfish reason. “Looking back, Jerry was always kid untouchable. It never mattered what we did. He was Aunt Kathy’s baby. In her skewed rose-colored view, Jerry could do no wrongs. She even made sure Tommy and me only stood in his shadows.”

My Bully, My Aunt, & Her Final Gift is dubiously cringeworthy. Described as being “equal to grabbing a turd by the clean end”—which we know is impossible—Aunt Kathy spared no one her wrath except Pastor Keith and Jerry. “Aunt Kathy never took a backseat to anyone.” According to her, “Sister Alice smelled like stank on a pig, or Deacon Hunter was a huge son-of a-dog, or Usher Skip Sanders should return to the streets.” Reading her “last words” felt like rewatching Mommie Dearest, the movie about Joan Crawford and how terrible of a mother she was to Christina and Christopher. Crawford loved having the last word, so the movie was Christina’s way of shutting her up for good. That’s what My Bully, My Aunt, & Her Final Gift puts me in the mindset of.

Harold Phifer suffered at the hands of his aunt. He shares stories of her breaking through pulpit security, hijacking the church choir competition, and throwing her money around Zion Gate Union Baptist in the name of Jesus. On the flipside, he more than made up for it with his own shenanigans, such as sneaking out of the house to go see Santa; gambling to win a new bicycle that she made him return (I feel that’s the real reason for this book); and stealing the show when she tried to give his lines of the church’s Christmas play to Jerry. For every cussing and whopping he received, Hal proudly stood his ground. Aunt Kathy never broke his spirit, and, in the end, he has the final say.

Yes, while reading, I clutched my pearls several times. I also let out quite a few chuckles, as I wondered why is this book necessary? Was the author seeking to honor or to disgrace Aunt Kathy? Was he trying to help others understand parts of her personality or simply seeking to expose her?

I cannot say I liked or disliked this book or enjoyed reading it, although when it was good, it was good. And when it wasn’t, it wasn’t. When it was funny, it was funny. When it was too much, it was too much. It seemed to be too much (for this reader) most of the time, only because I somehow thought from the title My Bully, My Aunt, & Her Final Gift was a tribute to a beloved aunt. Instead, it ended up being more of a tell-all.

If you can overlook the spelling, punctuation and grammatical errors, as well as a few lengthy paragraphs and the overuse of italics and misplaced exclamation marks (I’m sure nobody is excited about an aunt dying! [See what I did there?]), then you’re in for a good mixture of “Oh my!” and “What the world!” As is the case when I read in the chapter titled “Coming Together Over Satan”: “After 96 grueling years, Aunt Kathy’s reign of terror was finally over. Her quest of destroying lives, tormenting families, and bemoaning Christians had come to an end. Satan needed her most.”

While some information isn’t truly necessary, like the repetitive details of Harold’s mother’s mental illness, I can see where good ol’ Aunt Kathy even had her hand in that. And while there is much to say about the lies the pastor told at the funeral to cover up how Aunt Kathy truly lived, I will say the author dropped a few nuggets. My favorite is “Lions don’t care for the opinion of sheep.” That sounds just like Aunt Kathy!

In an email note about the story, the author stated that “It’s about resilience, letting go of resentments, and finding the good of an awkward/painful phase of your life.” While I can see where he was trying to go with the lessons and the final gift, somewhere they get lost in the chaos of who Aunt Kathy was. So, you’ll have to read it yourself to determine where you stand.

The book is nonfiction, yet its 127 pages read like fiction. Though Harold Phifer’s writing style does not particularly suit my taste, My Bully, My Aunt, & Her Final Gift had moments when I was engaged and moments when I tuned out. Along the margins of several dog-eared pages are scribbles of LOL and WTW. There are also smiling and frowning faces. I celebrated Little Hal as much as I grieved Aunt Kathy. Not because of the life she lived but because of the lives she thwarted.