Mother Left Six Weeks Ago

NOTE: This poem is NOT autobiographical. It is strictly a work of FICTION.

Mother left six weeks ago, said nothing, no goodbyes.
Wearily she climbed in bed, and then she closed her eyes.
Next morning when we found her in the light of day,
Like a stream in summer’s drought, she had passed away.
Now it’s time to sort her trash, sort her treasures too—
When your mother leaves this life, that’s what you must do.
By the attic window purses lined up in a row,
Bags of shoes, and dusty dresses—everything must go.
Pass me mother’s rosary, and some tissues too.
Say a little prayer for me; I’ll say one for you.

Poem © 2019 by Magical Mystical Teacher

Posted on March 10, 2019, in Poetry Pantry, Poets United, Rhyming poetry, Sunday's Whirligig and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 23 Comments.

  1. If this poem is autobiographical, I am very sorry for your loss.
    I dread the day when I will live the words of this poem.

  2. I echo the comment above.. so sorry for your loss. Wish you strength in this difficult time.

  3. Lisa at Greenbow

    Oh my, life can be such a struggle. What a pleasant way to go though. Big hugs, lots of strength and love.

  4. scotthastiepoet

    So tenderly and sweetly done – what you you capture here an honest balm to grief that might help many I’m sure…

  5. I am so sorry for your loss 😦 please accept my deepest condolences..

  6. Just beautiful. Sweet and sorrowful.

  7. A work of fiction, but so often true. When our Mother goes, it is monumental, for she has been here all of our lives. It happened when my Mom left, I got to her house, and the Monarch butterflies were in her trees, in search of nourishment before the final leg of their trip to Mexico. I think she left with them, the “butterfly” such a strong reminder of my Mom. “Things” in her life, so important to her, was just “stuff,” without her. We cleaned her house, and hoped she would have approved.

  8. I can picture this so clearly, the purses lined up on the window still. I hope my treasures are treasured when I depart. I love Annell’s comment, about the butterflies. This is wonderfully written, MMT.

  9. I think the moment when your mother passes is a moment each of us must face…. my mother is on her way to leave… and we have started the process of cleaning out the house.

  10. Such a deep sense of loss. I am glad this isn’t autobiographical

  11. It seems she was ready to go. So often people leave a lot behind, and then this stuff has to be sorted out. The loss of a parent is devastating, but the clutter to be sorted afterwards is hard work!

  12. When I started reading, I thought, What a big disclaimer you have! Then I the first comment and understood (and laughed, sorry… I know the frustration). You are so much cooler (and hopeful?) than I am. Because after I started being asked if things were shaky in my marriage, every time I wrote a poem about heart-break and such, I just stopped disclaiming. For some reason, no one ever seemed to noticed. Perhaps, I just needed HUGER words. I’m such a terrible woman.

    Now to the poem… Few things are as heartbreaking (and, in a way, soothing) as sorting out the belongings of our beloved departed. The first four stanzas remind me of the feelings the squeezed my heart when I had to go through my little brother’s personal possessions, right after he passed. Everything seemed less and too much at the same time. It felt like sacrilege to disturb the dust his feet has stepped on. Trash and treasure felt equally valuable at that moment.

    He has been gone for 6 years–today would’ve been his 33rd birthday (which might explain why this comment is getting so long)–and as I look at some of the things I kept (a watch, a handkerchief, an old t-shirt, and coincidentally a rosary) I can’t help but reach for a tissue or three while spelling a prayer.

  13. Ah, the little prayer requests, that’s the spiritual core of every bit of love and very massive amount of putting the material part of lives away. Nicely done.


    The leaving is like a unsolved mystery. I can see those purses, shoes and dresses so clearly in my mind. Funny how our inanimate things outlive us.

  15. Having read that this as a work of fiction, i can now dwell on your artistry of words. A very moving piece, the prayer indication of ghe end verse is inspiring
    Thanks for dropping by my sumie Sunday this week


  16. “Note: This comment is the truth.” One of the saddest things is the sorting out possessions of a loved one after they have died. However it also helps otherwise just too many memories will be staring you in the face each day to grieve over.

  17. Oh, how you render the feelings when a loved one passes away in such a physical manner (with possessions) is so good. The pain is expressed in such a tender manner.

  18. I’m glad it’s fictional; nevertheless, like all the best fiction, it rings very true and has an emotional effect. Well penned!

  19. Kestril Trueseeker

    LOL at the need for a disclaimer. I remember having to explain several times in the comments section of one of my pieces that it was purely fictional. I also have never had a loss like the one you described, but have a few friends who’ve been through that process. It’s intensely bittersweet.

  20. kaykuala

    When it comes to mother then the sorting out is not so much on the physical meaning, the dresses, utensils etc. It is more of the vacuum that needs to be filled. Things were clockwork before and the home was run smoothly. It suddenly becomes chaotic!


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