He’s not old anymore.

The cares and chores

Of day to day life

Are beyond him now.

The latest news

On channel 5,

The calamities of this world

Are gone for good.

No more worrying about

Who’s doing what to whom.

No more frets about

What the neighbors think

Or what they do.

And no regrets about

The good ole days,

And how it used to be

When people had respect

And honor and love

For each other

And when did it get this way?

It’s all gone for him now.

All has passed away.

No more aching knees,

Or bone weary hands

From working too hard,

And too long,

On too many jobs,

To put food on the table

And clothes on their backs.

No more bills to pay.

No more waking at 3 AM

Lying there awake,

Remembering their life together

And missing her…

More than he ever thought he would,

Reaching out to her side of the bed

in the darkness

And not finding her there.

Alone.

Then whispering silent prayers

Up to the ceiling

Of the room they shared for so many years.

Then in the stillness

Putting his trust in the Lord

For the last time

For ……. ever.

Like fog that slips into

Nothingness on a sunny winter morning,

Finally, he is gone

To be with her again.

Where they are not sick

Or tired or worried,

And they are not old anymore.

©Joan Campbell

 

I wrote this poem for my father-in-law who died in September. When we notified his sister, her comment was that he was not old anymore. My husband asked me to use that thought in a poem for his father and so it was written and read at the memorial service. But in the bigger sense, the feelings when I wrote the poem came from my memories and thoughts about all my relatives and friends who have died who were just plain weary and tired of being sick and just old. My prayers are for those of us who remain for those who have passed are assuredly not old anymore.