SHE LIVED ALONE

She sat there all alone each day
Chain smoking cigarettes
No one stopped by to visit her
Her diaper often wet.

No family, friends or acquaintances
Gave her the time of day
She sat and watched her TV
She lived her life…. her way.

Her children came to visit her
They came, but once a year
They’d stay in a hotel nearby
They never could stay there.

The stench in her apartment
Of smoke and sour milk
Was overwhelmingly putrid
It could make a flower wilt.

They tried to help their mother
Paid her rent and all her bills
Asked her to move in with them
She said, “I never will!”

Always somewhat eccentric
An artist and loving wife
She lost her husband to cancer
Now alone, she lived her life.

96 years old and weak
As skinny as could be
Her hair a mess, she was unkempt
She lived on toast and tea.

She died alone in her apartment
The landlord found her there
He called the police, the coroner
They thought that no one cared.

Her children came together
They looked at old photographs
They shared stories of their mother’s life
They cried, they smiled, they laughed.

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Image from Google Images: thuglifegrandma-Drawception

Author: Patty Richardson

Writer: Film scripts, poetry, short stories. View all posts by Patty Richardson