Forgotten Parents – The Hardest Type of Empty Nest

Forgotten Parents

Forgotten Parents – A New Kind of Empty Nest








We wiped bottoms and washed faces,

And took our children to many places.

We cut countless meals into tiny bites,

We made it through untold, sleepless nights.

We survived those frightening, terrible twos,

As parents, we paid all of our dues.

We hugged and kissed little hurts,

We applauded rapid growing spurts.

We read stories and played on the floor,

Our thoughts consumed with nothing more.

Back then they were so dependent,

Now they are constantly: The Defendant.

We cooked their meals and washed their dishes,

Now they ignore our calls, forsake our wishes.

Today we’re forgotten and overlooked,

We invite them over, they’re always booked.

No more children to hold us tight.

Or share a meal with or say goodnight.

Then was a time of love, caring and sacrifice,

Today we are only left with the questions, the whys.

Weeks go by without one phone call,

They say, “Were just too busy, that’s all!”

“Forget your wishes, we’re not the type,

To get caught up with visiting on Skype.”

We try to be there when they need us,

But they seldom make the time to see us.

Other priorities pull their strings,

Other people to visit, so many things.

We miss out on wonderful holidays,

Times with grandchildren and special days.

We single-parented harder to keep our family together,

And all that we get now is: “Oh please!” and “Whatever!”

They give up our love and our wisdom,

And prefer to continue in narcissism.

We long for days of Green Eggs and Ham,

Miss This Guy!

Miss This Guy!

And lunches made of peanut butter and jam.

Long gone are those days of slumber parties, Disneyland,

And Burt and Ernie, when our kids thought we were grand.

We have made mistakes, that we do face,

Where’s the forgiveness, the love, the grace?

There’s got to be a special place in heaven,

For the very faithful parents we have been.

Our children choose to keep us somewhat far,

Forgotten, abandoned, that’s what we now are.

We gave them our all, we gave them our best,

All that we have now is this type of empty nest.

This is in no way meant as an attack,

We love our children and wish them back.

We just want them to become aware,

That once parents die, it’s too late to care.

By ~ Elizabeth Yalian 2013- © ♛


Filed under Everythingelse, Life with Chronic Pain

15 responses to “Forgotten Parents – The Hardest Type of Empty Nest

  1. Reblogged this on HIS EYE IS ON THIS SPARROW TOO Still Learning to Lean on God and commented:

    I wrote this poem over 6 1/2 years ago. Since then, I inadvertently keep hearing stories of parents, who like me, have been: ghosted -forgotten-discarded without any real explanation; and of how the pain of this insidious loss and rejection that makes one feel chucked to the side of the road like a candy wrapper, never dies. Though it does grow faint with time. As the timeless cycle of holiday celebration approaches one more year, we are reminded that Thanksgiving and Christmas so rich in memories of past family gatherings are here, and the scab is once again yanked on. It is for you, Dear Forgotten Parents, that I am reposting this to remind you there are others who feel your grief and loss. You are not alone. God bless you during the holidays of 2019. My hope and prayer for you is this: May this be the year your hearts witness the joy of family restoration! Much Love! Elizabeth

  2. Ruth

    Many of us feel like we are on the outside looking in. We live in a generation where many women are working, rearing a family, have friends and yes as their parents we fall short of their time because they sincerely do not have time. We are boring, needy, and are not who we used to be. So, just one more thing on their list of things to take care of. Remember the husband has family and a mother and a father too. It is hard to explain and it is even harder to be last on the list. Most children do not do it intentionally. For this I am sure. Who does not love their parents. If there were any answers how to fix it …. we can’t. It is the now world we live in.
    We live in the past…expect the same or how we would like it to be…can’t be. So we are all lonely. Let’s all move in a house together and start our own family. We do have time for each other.

    • Indeed life is definitely very different today than even ten years ago. “Let’s all move in a house together and start our own family. We do have time for each other.” I believe that’s why retirement communities are so popular nowadays besides the excess of Baby Boomers. Wishing you a Happy New Year Ruth!

  3. How my cheeks are running with tears and I am swallowing the lump in my throat again as I read this. It’s so true, so painful. I’ve tasted tears of so many kinds in my life. But these tears are so bitter to endure, day after month after many years. I almost posted this on Facebook, but know my adult children might see it, get re-offended or block me. I live on egg shells despite being very ill and in severe pain. I need their help, but they do not respond. Seeing all the pictures of their fun lives, drinking and traveling, but no one to call home or see us is a pain that is difficult indeed – both to understand or to tell others about. I hope your situation heals in time, for one day may be too late to try and repair. Very best wishes and thank you for posting this.

    • You are so right in that no other pain is more bitter than the rejection that comes from one’s own children, the very children one has sacrificed and even given up a part of one’s life for. I can also relate with the walking on egg shells in fear of re-offending or being blocked out part of your comment. And yes it huts even more when we are alienated and feel left out of their lives. I am so sorry that your children cannot see that you need them at this time, and that they are not taking the time to at least call home. I get that the only people who understand are those going through the same thing. I also find it difficult and further feel the heavy emptiness of heart when I am with friends talking about great times with their kids or the wonderful holiday plans they have together.
      I cannot tell you how many other parents who have greatly sacrificed for their kids are dealing with the same rejection and neglect from their kids. That was the main reason I wrote this poem, because it seems like it’s a small epidemic and I hoped to make a difference in somebody’s life. I hang on to the fact that this too shall pass someday, and I will be in the arms of a loving Father who never rejects, abandons or neglects those who love Him. I have to say that this situation gave me great insight on the pain God, a parent also, feels when we reject Him or neglect Him, yet He is such a loving Father, forgiving us with open arms. There is always hope though. I know of several parents whose children have had a change of heart and a new relationship has begun to bloom. I pray this happens for you, my friend. One never knows what the future holds as God is always at work for the good of those who love Him. My hope for myself, for you, and for all other empty parents is that with time, our children will turn their hearts and remember us. In the mean time I try to love those who come into my life. Lord bless you!

      • Thank you for responding. I know what you mean about the added pain when seeing the loving relationships between other parents and their grown kids. I know one day there will be no more pain, no more mourning, no outcry, no more death. Revelation 21:3, 4. I love our heavenly father and his son, and the exquisite promises in the Bible. Many hugs to you and all those experiencing this and all types of pain or suffering.

  4. Tentacles of My Heart

    I too feel your pain. They do come full circle …in time.

  5. Laura Hedgecock

    Oh, so tragic. All that love. Hopefully you can find reconciliation.

  6. David

    I have gone through something similar with my kids. They have a hard time appreciating all that I have gone through for them.

    • It is frustrating and hurtful, David. I wrote this poem with a good friend in mind as well as for myself. This friend, whose children are in their mid-twenties, gets forgotten on birthdays or special days, and has been struggling with the feelings of neglect for quite a while. These kids blow their money on foolish stuff, then come wanting help with bills, car repairs, etc. I know of other parents who have experienced the same thing. My children are in their early thirties. I thought by now things would have changed. All we can do is to continue to be loving parents, and hope and pray that they will eventually realize that we have feelings too, and that we don’t forget them or stop loving them after they move out and begin their own families. Blessings to you!

  7. As parents, we strive to give our children everything they need to be strong, autonomous adults. When they move to an independent life — that’s our success. We also show them what love and sacrifice and caring look like. When their independence overwhelms their affection — that’s our failure.

    I’ve read your posts, and I can’t find it in me to believe that someone with so much love to give hasn’t inspired that same in her children. I hope they read this poem and find a way to come back to that — if not for themselves, then for their children. I just don’t think it’s ever possible to get too much love.

    • Thank you for your thoughtful comment. I agree with you wholeheartedly. Unfortunately, divorce does ugly things to a family. There was a period of about six years when I didn’t receive any child support. As a single mom, I had to work several jobs at a time and came home exhausted and overwhelmed. This greatly affected my connection and relationship with my kids. My ex, a very bitter person, stepped into their lives once they were adults and has made it a point over the years to tear apart my relationship with my kids. I pray God opens my children’s eyes to the truth. I also don’t think its impossible to love or be loved too much, though relationships can be extremely painful at times.

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