Household chores left undone,
food spoiled in the fridge;
dust covers our old TV,
and webs the spiders stitched.

And yet the flowers that I planted
I care for tenderly,
just the way I cared for you:
'Twas never work for me.

The house feels starkly empty
without you there to share.
I cannot rest within its walls
knowing you're not there.

But outdoors in my garden,
I work on, happily,
knowing you're in Heaven
and smiling down at me.