deepundergroundpoetry.com
Growing Old
We grew old
The children are gone
The nest is empty
There's one less chair at the table
There's one less pillow next to my head
She's not here anymore
The house is falling apart.
She's not cleaning up behind me
There's so many things I didn't even know she did
All the little things that kept it all together
All the little things that I can't remember
She's not here to tell me goodnight
She's not here to say she loves me
She's not here to make the bed
She's not here to hold my hand
She's not here
The children are gone
The nest is empty
There's one less chair at the table
There's one less pillow next to my head
She's not here anymore
The house is falling apart.
She's not cleaning up behind me
There's so many things I didn't even know she did
All the little things that kept it all together
All the little things that I can't remember
She's not here to tell me goodnight
She's not here to say she loves me
She's not here to make the bed
She's not here to hold my hand
She's not here
Published 23rd Jan 2019
Author's Note
Inspired by the aftermath of my grandmother’s death.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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comments 5
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Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
23rd Jan 2019 11:56pm
Really good, but quite sad... Your love for your grandmother and your empathy for your grandfather is really sweet and touching, and is beautifully expressed here. I'm glad you shared this :)
24th Jan 2019 00:22am
Thank you for your comment.
Truthfully, I´m glad that I was able to find the poem.
This poem is a reflection of how I felt when she died. It was observational. So many things at their house are different now, and every time we go to visit, there´s hardly ever any food, the sheets aren´t clean, etc. I´m sure my pop has noticed the difference that her death made, too. He just never had to worry about getting groceries or cleaning or doing his own laundry or anything. She took care of all of that for him.
One of the most heartbreaking things, to me, is to think of my own partner dying, and afterwards, having to pick up all the pieces that they left behind. I mean, you´d really be reminded of them by almost everything. And I can´t imagine after 50 or more years of being married to someone, it would be incredibly hard to live without someone who has constantly been in your life.
Truthfully, I´m glad that I was able to find the poem.
This poem is a reflection of how I felt when she died. It was observational. So many things at their house are different now, and every time we go to visit, there´s hardly ever any food, the sheets aren´t clean, etc. I´m sure my pop has noticed the difference that her death made, too. He just never had to worry about getting groceries or cleaning or doing his own laundry or anything. She took care of all of that for him.
One of the most heartbreaking things, to me, is to think of my own partner dying, and afterwards, having to pick up all the pieces that they left behind. I mean, you´d really be reminded of them by almost everything. And I can´t imagine after 50 or more years of being married to someone, it would be incredibly hard to live without someone who has constantly been in your life.
24th Jan 2019 10:13pm
25th Jan 2019 00:20am
12th Mar 2024 9:36pm
Your verse is a difficult honest emotion to express but a very true one at the nature of our grief process.
Thank you for sharing.
Thank you for sharing.
