Independence

The last child’s fin’ly moving out.

We must suppress our joyous shout.

The kids, they always take things wrong.

We’ll miss all three before too long. 

It’s not that we don’t love them all,

We’ll always answer when they call.

Our kids have made us truly blessed.

They’ll always be inside our breast.

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Since kids no longer live at home,

our trav’ling genes begin to roam. 

For trips, each kid now takes a turn

to watch our house till we return. 

They get the mail and check inside.

They check garage and look outside. 

We’ll see them on each holiday. 

We’ll all bring food and gifts that day. 

——————————

Our children slowly drift apart. 

For me, this really breaks my heart.

But, I'll adjust to this new life.

‘cause you’re my man, and I’m your wife.

The kids are free until our health

begins to threaten all our wealth.

By then the roles will be reversed. 

I fall a lot, I think I’m cursed.

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You’ve got dementia, that’s for sure.

You’re happy but you’re not demure.

Our daughter gives us constant care.

Our sons, we don’t see anywhere.

The kids will then, for us, decide.

We’ll fight them though because of pride.

But they’ll discuss without our say

if we should move or we should stay.

——————————

What we desire’s not factored in.

From options chosen, we can’t win.

They sell the house and move us out.

Demeaning, it’s without a doubt.

They now take turns providing care,

but we are shuffled ev’rywhere.

A deep depression takes its toll

‘cause independence was our goal.