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Moving On Leaving Memories Behind

I am the son of immigrant parents to Australia who moved various times to different rented properties. We finally moved into our own house and the family expanded to three children. Our home became the centre of our lives providing a place to live and a garden that provided most of our food. Our families loved the house and the saddest day of our lives was the day we sold it after our parents passed. We wanted to keep the house but at the time we could not. So on the last day a final goodbye.

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A lovely poem - very moving. I could visualise everything you wrote about so clearly. Well done, best wishes, Ann

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Goodbye To A Precious Home And Time

© more by Samuel Aragone

Published by Family Friend Poems April 20, 2024 with permission of the Author.

Can there be anything sadder
Than a home that's had its day
Where the children have moved on
And the owners passed away

But the sadness becomes unbearable
When that home had been your own
And it reminds you so clearly
Of the happier moments you've known

Worn knitting needles shine in the sunroom
Protruding from a bag of wool on the floor
But mum's favorite chair is empty
And her needles clack no more

The crystal cabinet in the lounge room has a mirror
Reflecting an old man with the saddest of eyes
The same eyes beam from a picture of young bloke
Ecstatic as he claims some obscure scholastic prize

His brother and his sister are beside him
Sitting on that mantle piece so proud
While an eerie silence engulfs you now
This home had often been so loud

In the bedroom a green chest sits in the corner
A lonely companion that had crossed the sea
All the memories of the old world hastily packed there
Once so precious to my mum and me

In the backyard the shed had been fundamental
To the lives of the people living here
Bar-b-cuing, conserving, eating
Routine determined by the passing of the year

I wonder what my dad would have thought
When I gave his precious tools away
Polishing, honing, oiling he wanted them maintained
I gave most to his neighbor and threw out what remained

A broken bike hides in the corner
Somehow it too had found a home here
Evoking my small son wobbling down the street
His face a contortion of excitement and fear

So many precious items
That have so little value now
Indispensable to the family then
But they must all disposed of somehow

As the shadows start to lengthen
The house seems to come slowly alive
My mother yelling from the kitchen
'Dinner's ready everyone come inside'

An old fashioned yellow light illuminates my father
As he sits at the table so serene
A glass of red wine clutched in his hand
His wife and children filling out the scene

But the fading light is tricky
Your mind sees what it wants to see
As I move towards the house
Only silence comes to greet me

And I know where my mum and dad live now
The priest blessed their souls when we moved them there
So all these memories would be moved to the tip
Why should I even care

But as I shut the gate behind me
There's a heaviness of heart as tears spring to my eyes
Saying goodbye to everything you held so dear
Surely sadness should come as no surprise

And I leave the old house as my mum left it
On her last awful final afternoon
The darkness in my house and heart
I entrust to the fullest of full moons.


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A lovely poem - very moving. I could visualise everything you wrote about so clearly. Well done, best wishes, Ann

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