Sitting in his favourite chair
Watching birds at play,
Garden now in disrepair
So the neighbours say.
Wasn’t so when Kate was here,
Always on the go
Filling days with happy cheer
Making gardens grow.
How he wishes she were here
Sitting next to him,
Now he doesn’t seem to care
Eyesight getting dim.
Everything he did with Kate
Bought him constant joy.
After work her at the gate
Holding only boy.
Over years a settled life
Happy home it was
He, his son, and darling wife,
Different now because
Kate now resting in her grave
Son in distant land.
Trying memories now to save
None to give a hand.
Neighbours watching over fence
Phone the far-off son
Conversation sounding tense,
New job just begun.
Morning follows troubled night,
Neighbours ring the bell
With the news son on a flight
Good news now to tell.
Motionless on floor inside
Photo in his hand
Fallen phone is close beside
Near a wedding band.
Tried to phone his son, it seems
Swooned and hit his head.
Kate and son his frequent dreams,
Floor his final bed.
Neighbours at the airport meet
Son reduced to tears,
Home in future no retreat
Gone are happy years.
Wife and children join him then
All of them to grieve,
Never see grandpa again
Hard ‘twas to believe.
Since older generation gone
Leaving empty spot,
Future now to plan alone
Friends are all they’ve got.
© Copyright 2019 Ian Grice, “ianscyberspace.” All rights reserved
ianscyberspace 
I read that one of the secrets to longevity is an active social life. Over my lifetime the better way has risen, along with the world population, by leaps and bounds. In the west, today’s affluence rises out of the horrors and deprivations of WWII. But i also witness the break down of the family, particularly in a poor country like Honduras, where an exodus of the young and hopeful leaves the elderly alone. Nowadays even the affluent nations shove their old into homes. The man in your poem is abandoned by family although ‘lucky’ to still be living an independent life.
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We live in a very complicated world. Sometimes there are no opportunities for work in the area people grow up in and they have to travel to a place where they can get a job. I know there are people who can carelessly abandon their elderly parents as you say, but many times it is the parents who refuse to follow their children where work is available so the best that can be done under those circumstances is to send money home to give them as much comfort as possible in their old age. It’s a sad world.
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Great!
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Thank you for continuing to read my stories and poems. I value your opinions. 🙂
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Heartfelt words, Ian. Hugs Xx
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Thank you Jane 🙂
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A sad poem, indeed. I don’t look forward to being alone and I don’t like the idea of sitting around waiting to die.
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Interesting that at age 18 one doesn’t think about the time to exit. We are bullet proof in our thinking. But add a few years and the shock of seeing our peers disappear one by one does remind us human life has time limits. The trick is to be positive and happy and that can only come if we don’t shut ourselves away and begin to feel sorry for ourselves. 🙂
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True words, Ian.
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A sad poem but holds many truths.
Life, a holiday romance. Painful parting for those going away and those remaining behind.
Life, a school. Lessons learned and unlearned.
Life, a journey. Never ending… some believe.
Peace,
Eric
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One hundred years from the time of death few will be remembered for the totality of their life even by their descendants. But if we can at least pass on to those who follow us a better way of life then our time here has not been in vain. 🙂
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