Empty Chairs

widower lives each day waiting to go to sleep; only to start that dreaded clock again

Cleaning smudges on windows and

Feeding the birds,

The things that encircle his world;

Going out to the mailbox to

Find a dark space,

He shudders and thinks of his wife.

She left him so helpless

(he eats frozen food)

That he doesn’t know when to pay bills;

He goes to the church and sits down in the back

And prays while he stares at the walls.

On the way home he stops at the diner again

To eat eggs like she used to make,

And then shuffles on home to watch all of his shows

(Judge Judy now teaching him law).

A pot pie for dinner, turning on Jeopardy

For the answers he questions each night.

He plops on the couch to sleep soundly till 4

Then makes the bed she used to use.

A day starts again and he sheds a small tear,

Then turns on and watches the news…

Crying again on his pillowed excuse.

 

dan © 2015

Music: "Windows and Walls," by Dan Fogelberg

Author's Note

Reviews

[Nadia Gerassimenko]

This man has really not been prepared for what comes after! Or prepared for that matter. It's not entirely his fault or the wife's fault. Maybe they were living in a different time, different society that nurtured more men as bread winners and women as housewives. Unlike nowadays when there's a bit more equality and men have to be prepared as well to be able to cook and clean. And women to be prepared to go into workforce and maybe even work over time. And vice versa, of course.

It is a sad piece, but at the same time a bit full of humor here and there. But as they say, "Every joke has a bit of truth to it and the rest is humor." Well, that's what we say in Russian (tried to translate it as best as I could). So even in humor, there is truth and sadness...it becomes a very sad joke. I don't know if that is what you intended here. I feel like the character doesn't really miss his wife as his wife, but rather the routine she provided for him like making eggs, pot pies, watching shows together, going to church together. But it's not her he laments in reality, but the helplessness he is left with for not being able to get by on his own. Maybe it is what you intended (in that case, the poem stays as is), but if not I would definitely ponder on the characters' love for each other. I would provide more wording on how he misses her, what his life is missing without her not the routine she was fulfilling in their daily lives.

[dan]

Nadia, This was based loosely on a story seen on the local news of a prominent citizen now reduced to a confused gentleman after his wife's passing. The way I intended was that this man really did miss her love and companionship, but he kept doing the things he could on his own in his way of keeping her memory alive. It's also loosely based on my late uncle. My aunt dies and he was left alone, confused and resistant to change. On a visit he told me, "I don't really want to die but I don't really know how to live." He too was tied up in a routine that she and he shared in their later years; it WAS love, but more regimented in the "husband and breadwinner, wife and homemaker" sort of way. And some of his actions, as seen by outsiders, may seem a bit comical but it was his reality that he did not wish to let go. Thanks for the great review. take care...dan

[Nadia Gerassimenko]

Dan, thank you for the clarification! I now understand this a bit better on a deeper level :).

[Isabel25]

Shudder...! Two days ago I wrote a poem where I asked how the widows and widowers deal with heartbreak. This is so raw, so sad. The helpless situation of a lonely man.

"Going to the mailbox to find a dark space" "Crying on in his pillowed excuse", frozen food - everything symbolises his stagnant life. I wonder if he ever used to make the bed she used to use when she was alive. I doubt it.

[dan]

Annie, You're probably right. I thought that he would do it BECAUSE that's what she would want him to do. I'd like to read your poem you mention. Could you send a read request or just the name so I can look for it on your page? Thank you for the review. take care...dan

[Isabel25]

It not at all related to this poem Dan. You just made me see the other side of what I wrote.

[dan]

So you don't want me to read your poem? Pleeeeaaasssee??...dan

[Isabel25]

I sent you an RR, i think :/ Ofcos I want you to "Extremely Cliched Heartbreak"

[....................]

Such a sad piece, dan, relating the monotonous routine of a widower. My dad lived eleven years after my mom died and though he could cook, bake, and visit family, his routines were pretty much the same: he watched the fights, repeats of Three's Company and the news. Each time I spoke to him and asked what he was up to he would say: 'waiting for bed!" His whole life had become 'waiting for bed'. Your words speak to me and sadden me because I realize that what my dad was actually doing was waiting to die. I hope none of us ever have to suffer so in our final years but no one is sure where life will take us. Great write, my friend, full of keen observations. You are able to place yourself in any shoes and that is what makes you a great writer. Enjoy your day, FT

[dan]

FT, This piece was prompted by a human interest story on the local news, but reminded me of one of my uncles years ago. My wife and I were visiting him and he confessed, "I don't really want to die but I'm not sure how to live," as he sat, tears in his eyes. HE lived about 4 more years, alone. Think how many others like my uncle and your dad there are right now...so sad. Thank you so much for your review and story of your dad. take care...dan

[~]

Ahh, a stage of life that we have a 50/50 chance of living it.

Emotional write Dan. Your description of the mundane and how it still remains special after our loved one has left, is excellent.

A keen eye for things that feel true to our bones.

[dan]

ms, Thank you, this was loosely based on a story on local news plus memories of my late uncle when my aunt died. I must admit that I fear being in this position (maybe) some day. Sadly this is going on in countless places right now. take care...dan

[jacob erin-cilberto]

"crying again on his pillowed excuse"
i wish i would have written that line...fantastic...
the entire poem is...in a relationship of length we seldom realize how much we depend on the other until that person is gone.

this has such personality...and that stint at the diner for the eggs "like she used to make"

oh yes.

[dan]

Jacob, There was a story on local news about an elderly gentleman of prominence who lost his wife and is now a shell of himself. That was the outline, I tried to fill in the rest. I had hoped to generate a certain feeling of a man not exactly wanting to die but not really knowing how to resume living. Thanks so much for your insightful review. take care...dan

[Angel Alli]

I like this piece. It captures the monotonous of life after loss, without hiding the pain.