a visit to my great aunt

an old woman in a musty house
waited for the doorbell to ring
the food she'd prepared the day before
lay in bowls and dishes on a timeworn table
her hair done up, dressed in her weekend best
make-up on her face that broke your heart
waiting for the door to ring
waiting for a little company
to ease her days

I knocked and she opened the door
a view of the decrepit house
things never thrown away
sepia photos of men in their youth
that sense of frail doom that never leaves the forgotten
the sinister invisible spirit always present
in some corner of the room, like a vulture
the only companion for the lonely
and my heart sank
even though I was smiling
even though you were smiling
even though we made joyous remarks
I saw an old woman in a lonely house
and I felt like I was entering a tomb

I am your niece's son
and I haven't seen you
since I was too small to remember
but you do remember
you remember me and your family
and your friends, though they're now mostly gone
the photos line the cold barren walls of your home
photos of my mother when she was a girl
and my aunt
and your sisters and brothers
the newspapers and books, the little keepsakes
the memories, the poverty, the smell of food
all around us
you made food for me and we ate, I was grateful
you didn't have much
you tried to talk, I tried to talk
awkward, nothing to say
that sinister lonely spirit
eavesdropped on everything we said
and didn't say
because we both wanted to say something we couldn't
something besides what came out of our mouths
I wanted to say... what did I want to say?
I wanted to say that there are people
that we are people
that we are, they are, everywhere
that we all have each other
that we are never alone
we are all around, we are here
don't despair

and the sinister spirit, I swear
it snickered

but I tried to pay it no heed
I wanted to hold you and hug you
I wanted to say it's alright, it's all alright
but I didn't, I couldn't
and I said nothing...
what you wanted to say, I don't know
when I left I promised I'd visit you again
but I never did
and I convinced myself of many excuses
to set my mind at ease

my mother last saw you before you died
alone in a dreary old retirement home
because you couldn't look after yourself anymore
that deathly cold home
without heating, with dirty sheets
with food that was never enough
that never tasted like anything
among strangers
without any loved ones
without a family
without a son or a daughter
by your side
forgotten, alone
death just standing there, by the door
snickering sinister lonely death
standing and staring ghastly in your eyes
by the rickety creaking door
where none but strangers enter anymore
where exit is the only thing
left to hope for

my mother said you were once beautiful
you danced when you were a girl
and you went to school and spoke German
and you worked your whole life
and you never married
never had children
you were alone all your life
when you were strong and young
how time fades and bodies fade with time
how people leave
and the strong never see the moment
they were left behind
and they realize, too late, that life has passed them by
mighty fates hidden in small decisions
accumulated over time
hidden behind the mask of vanity and pride
confront you now
in a cold gray room
and that sinister presence
still lurking in the doorways of a regretful mind

when I heard of your death
I think I felt relieved
but I couldn't understand
why we lost so many people
when so many people were still around
why we lost so many people
so long before their time was out
and I couldn't understand
why I also lost you
when I was one of the few
who still knew you were around
who could still put their arms around you
and hold you
and tell you

that we are people
that there are people
that they are
we are
all around