MEMORIES AND FEARS OF OLD MEN

They call us 'gay', but now

We sit alone with our memories

Of those we have loved.

Partners, friends, relatives, much loved animal companions,

We remember their names.

George, Tibby, Lenny, Gemma,

Noel, Robbie, Norman, Liza,

Freda/Freddy, Mitzi, Marion, Mad Max,

Scruffy, Cindy, Dinkie,

Dixie, Trixie, Specs.

They comforted us, brightened our lives,

made us angry at times.

Now they've all gone, moved on to a better place,

And we are left with just precious memories.

Alone with fears for the future,

Fears of loneliness, of facing illness and death alone,

Fears of losses still to come.

What will become of us?

Will we die old men in nursing homes?

Or alone to be found months later?

Be cheered, friendly loving faces are waiting

to greet us with outstretched arms, loving mews and barks of joy,

On the Other Side.

Meanwhile, we must somehow carry on

Coming into empty, silent homes

But knowing somewhere

They are near, watching over us,

Seeing their loved ones growing old.

Old men and our memories

of those we have loved.

Thank you for coming into our lives,

giving rise to laughter, anger, joy, love.

Who can we talk to now?

No children to care for us, ignore us,

Forget us, or put us away in a 'home'.

So we talk to ourselves,

 Hoping somewhere, in the next room,

In the next Universe, dimension

Or the next Spiritual plane,

That they are listening

And understand our loneliness.

Trying to feel their presence, for they are with us always.

(Tony Papard, remembering my own companions Tibby, George, Trixie, Dixie, Dinkie, Specs)