Write about something lost, something found, our leader suggests. Late at night I think about that, and here’s what I get.
Ode to Things Lost
Some sort of Poem
Look in the mirror — I’ve lost my looks-
It doesn’t seem fair, as I grow older
I’m losing my hair.
Once my crowning glory, or so I was told,
Now I must arrange it
To cover the holes.
I’ve also grown — shorter, you see.
My grand-daughter exclaims, “Nanni-
You’re much shorter than me!”
I’ve lost both my parents, my one sister as well-
Now no one is left to whom I can tell
A story of “Googling” our homes from the past.
So pleasant to see they still look nice, to see they could last.
Old friends — they are lost too.
Gone many years now; no sense feeling blue.
New friends have been made, important, we knew-
To laugh and share stories – -they’ve lost a lot too.
With age come some wisdom; some sayings we knew-
Let go, let God; don’t cling to the past.
Plan to enjoy each day to the last. And this is our mantra — we say it-
We look at each other and shrug-
“well, what are you going to do?”
Oh yes, “the children”-we still have
the children — perhaps ‘Grands’ and ‘Great Grands’
And families (not shattered) are scattered
all over the land.
E-mails and Facebook now replace phone calls-
And as for visits — do they really matter?
We say it does, that a visit is better.
To them — it’s time to send another e-mail letter.
Here’s a thought from a book I’ve just finished reading.
A woman is reflecting to herself that when her husband died
she’d gone from being the Matriarch of the family to being
the elderly mother who must be checked up on by ‘the children’.
How true — and that is the greatest loss of all.