Waking in the night, she sees
pieces of silvery moonlight
shimmering on the bedroom floor.
She hears the faded echoes of happy voices,
the clatter and cadence of her family.
And then remembers, they're gone, all of them.
Gone. And achingly, it's time.
Time to leave this house,
where she's lived the past forty years,
where she's spent a lifetime.
Through good and bad the house
has been her constant companion.
It's pulled her in during happy and sad,
and always made her feel safe.
Her favorite room is the tiny
second floor study, now hers alone,
where daylight streams in
the casement windows trimmed
with Battenberg lace curtains.
She remembers magical evenings
when the setting sun turned the tips
of the old cottonwood on the corner
from gold to red to dim.
The years have repeated themselves,
similar in so many ways,
but with charming differences
that have become her treasures.
Now those memories will go with her,
and she hopes it will be enough.
Notes:
I spend a lot of time thinking about moving. I never recovered from my botched hip replacement 3 years ago and must still use a walker. Living in a two-story house is getting harder. Now my challenge is to find an apartment where we can go. And I'm dreading it.
4 comments:
Marianne, your poem hit me in so many places. Pulled in so many memories. The difficulty of leaving "shelter" for the unknown. The use of a "walker". I have the one my Mother used and her memory floods me each time I use it. I now live in a rented apartment with two bedrooms. Not because I expect company, but did long for an office in which to "work", even though I've been retired for 10 years. I have given myself a new definition, that of "Hermit". It took some time, but I actually prefer it. Thank you so much for writing this. I know it must have been difficult, but is a treasured gift to this reader.
Elizabeth
Marianne,
This poem made me feel sad. I worry about physical limitations as I get older.
However, I do admire your honesty in writing it.
I am happy to be writing with you this month.
Love,
Pamela
I envy your life in the same house for so many years. What a blessing that must be. Your descriptions are beautiful, and carry the emotions of aging, that it seems all four of us have to some degree. I hope you find an apartment that you can adore. You'll fill its spaces with love. I'm sorry you are facing this. Your love for your home is beautifully expressed here.
Love to you, my friend.
Brenda
Your experience was my own...it is hard to leave a house you have loved, lived in, it seems there are memories tucked into each and every corner...perhaps I was afraid, will I forget some? And yet, I couldn't stay...it really is a hard one in life. That was twenty four years ago, and sometimes I still morn what was lost. And yet, the memories keep me company on cold grey days. I loved your write.
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