I left photograph albums of her out on
the coffee table
Thinking the neighbours might like to
see and so, celebrate her life
Her youthful days spent at home,
playing among the fields, by the river,
In the little country village where she
lived,
Her time in England and in America,
Her joys, her loves, her hopes,
I thought it was a good idea.
But when the neighbours came by
They talked only of their own families,
their kids
About their hobbies and what Clubs
they were in & what they were doing
the weekend,
About their cars and how big they
were
What horsepower the engine was,
They talked of Life and of getting on
with life
And enjoying life,
Maybe they had it right, trying to be
positive in the face of sorrow
It must have been awkward for them,
Maybe it was my own fault too, for not
drawing their attention to them (the
photograph albums)
But I was busy getting drinks, making
sandwiches, serving tea
(And had a fair bit of drink taken
myself by then)
But the photograph albums they were
left their untouched, not a single page
was turned like no one was interested
Like no one wanted to know, like no
one cared at all
I thought it kind of sad, and my Dad
who had sat there silently for a long
time
Listening to what was being said
Suddenly got up and walked out in a
bit of a huff.
We needed a suit of clothes to lay her
out in, in the coffin,
I thought rather foolishly I suppose,
that I should put them on the
radiator first to warm them
It would be cold in that coffin, and colder still down in that deep dark
clay.
In the Nursing Home she had
complained of being very hot
I used to take her in a little tub of ice
cream
And give her a few teaspoons every
night,
Now when I open the freezer door,
there's still one tub left inside
The last one, the final one I'd brought
in
But never used, that same fateful night
she died.
It's funny but I try not to think of her
that much
Because I know if I did, it'd only upset
me, make me all sad & teary eyed
And I'd be no good then, no use to
anyone,
There's a time and a place I suppose, a
time and a place to grieve... to
remember.
I know she wouldn't have liked to see
me that way either,
She would have wanted me to get on
with my own life
She used tell me, "Don't waste your
time on me, my life is over now,
my days are done,
It's your turn now, go live your own
life and find your own happiness".
It only hits you when you go into her
room & see her clothes still hanging
there
And you realize she's not around
anymore to wear them,
I bought a lot of them for her myself
Used to embarrass me going into the
Ladies Section to get her stuff
The pyjamas, their the saddest, they
hurt the most
The ones with the little woolly sheep
on them, the ones with the nice
bunnies
( Heh! they always used to joke I had
such poor taste)
The one with the bright red flowers
And the one with the little penguins
on skis
With the scarves wrapped around
their necks.
We had to write a final farewell
message to put on a card
To go on the bouquet on her coffin
I struggled at first, looking over at my
brothers, not knowing what to say,
My mind, as always, wanted to say the
'right' thing
But luckily, my heart got in the way
I said, I wrote " Thanks for all the
Years Mom,
It was a great pleasure knowing you,
Enjoy the next life, you deserve to,
I'll be seeing you! "
This was written several years ago after my Mom died, it kind of wrote itself, it was the things that stuck out to me in the days just after she had died. - Is a bit unfair to the neighbours, most of them went to the funeral home where Mom was laid out. Me & my Dad stayed at home just in case anyone came to the house. Only a couple of neighbors came & one brought their grown up sons whom I knew. I was glad they came & despite all we had a good night. -Also the ending of this, it isn't some death wish, I like to believe in reincarnation and that we all come back, every time I see a little girl or boy I think that could be my Mom or Dad (he passed away too a few years later).
