You would think there would be some remnant left,
but death was simple.
You were there and then you weren’t.
After one deep ragged breath
you were so gone that even your body
seemed to miss you. That stillness
so irrevocable. So not right.
Our friends all came
to see the place where you had been,
bringing offerings
to fill the void.
It was a full-packed house–
your sons, their wives, your daughter–
eight of us filling out every hollow corner.
I slept in the bed meant for two,
trying to convince myself I was enough–
trying to fill in the space you left.
That empty cup.
The Prompt: Cut Off–When was the last time you felt completely, truly lonely?
lifelessons - a blog by Judy Dykstra-Brown 
Beautifully spoken and more than a little haunting.
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I’m so sorry for your loss, even sorrier to know that words and thoughts don’t help.
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It’s been over 13 years since the death of my husband, so it is a memory of a loneliest time of my life..and actually, words and thoughts (my own) were what brought me out of it. Thanks for your kind words… Judy
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Oh that spoke to me. Great post!
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I noticed differences in this poem between this page and the comment page. I assume you revised it somehow…or did Bob do it from the spirit world? Great poem. XXOO, Patti
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Hi patti…Yes, I did a number of revisions after I had posted it…but curious about why they were recorded on one page and not the other. Perhaps you caught it just as I was revising it…Also, if you were reading it on Facebook, I think they don’t make the changes on the part of the poem shown on the Facebook page, but once you go to my actual blog, it does. Is this what you are talking about? Thanks for reading and commenting.Actually, Bob did show up for a few minutes right after I finished editing…you know that distinctive smell? xoxo J
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Reading your poem I felt like being there. When my mother died 6 years ago I was alone in her home, my childhood home. Time stood still. I couldn’t call anybody. I just looked at the things and let the hours pass.
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This poem is about the death of my husband Bob, who died at home. We didn’t even let them take the body until 8 hours after he died. We dressed him in his favorite clothes, including his red suede high tops and friends, many who hadn’t seen him since he became ill as he didn’t want company, came to visit. He was lying on the bed like he was taking a nap. It was reassuring not to have to part with him so immediately.
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My mother was taken to the hospital few hours before. So being in her home without her was tough, but it helped me to be alone there.
I have just started reading your book yesterday. Will let you know how it works on me. Love from your Danish blogging friend
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Hi Maria. I hope you do identify with part of the book or that it is instructive in some way. I’d love to know what you think. Judy
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It was like this for me when my father died and I went alone to clear out their house. It is so strange to see a loved one’s objects when they are ownerless. So ironic that they remain after the one they belonged to. They say that things are not important, but in the end they are all that remain.
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I have the same thoughts about the remaining things. We can’t collect everything from our beloved passed family, but pieces of furniture, things for use in the kitchen, vases or embroidered tablecloths etc tell their story to us at least.
Maybe you would read one of my first posts here on WordPress http://mariaholm51.com/2014/10/01/the-last-rose-of-the-year/
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Such a powerful poem. You expressed your experience so vividly.
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Thanks, Karuna.
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