The black dress hung heavy on her frame.
Shoulders bent forward,
She sat by the window,
Eyes tracing raindrops down the glass.
The ticking clock echoed in the stillness of time.
A dusty frame, untouched
Hands rested on her lap,
A crease formed between her eyes
Beneath the dim candle light.
Tears streaked down her cheeks
As the silence filled the space he once did.
My inspiration for this poem was my mom. Though she is not a widow, almost three years ago we lost my uncle due to suicide. This left my mom feeling as if a part of her was ripped apart from us. This was a very difficult time for all of us, but mainly for my mom. This was her younger brother who was always by her side. My uncle was there every time she needed him. He acted as a father figure for my siblings and I. As we found out about my uncle's death, my mom wouldn’t eat or even talk to us. She was heartbroken, and it was difficult for my brother and I to help her out. We tried our best to help her, but as the poem demonstrates, she would often sit alone in her room and cry to herself. At first she would also blame herself for what happened and she took so much fault and disciplined herself for it. As time went on, my mom is now okay. When we visit the cemetery it's hard on all of us; it feels as if it just happened. I’m proud of my mom for getting through this grieving time and though she is still grieving, I have seen great growth from her. My uncle was a big part of our lives and he will never be forgotten.