Tag Archives: youth

The Crabby Old Lady

When an old lady died in the geriatric ward of a small hospital near Dundee, Scotland, it was believed that she had nothing left of any value.

Later, when the nurses were going through her meager possessions, they found this poem. Its quality and content so impressed the staff that copies were made and distributed to every nurse in the hospital. One nurse took her copy to Ireland.

The old lady’s sole bequest to posterity has since appeared in the Christmas edition of the News Magazine of the North Ireland Association for Mental Health. A slide presentation has also been made based on her simple, but eloquent, poem. And this little old Scottish lady, with nothing left to give to the world, is now the author of this “anonymous” poem winging across the Internet

Crabby Old woman
What do you see, nurses?
What do you see?
What are you thinking
When you’re looking at me?

A crabby old woman,
Not very wise,
Uncertain of habit,
With faraway eyes?

Who dribbles her food
And makes no reply
When you say in a loud voice,
“I do wish you’d try!”

Who seems not to notice
The things that you do,
And forever is losing
A stocking or shoe?

Who, resisting or not,
Let’s you do as you will,
With bathing and feeding,
The long day to fill?

Is that what you’re thinking?
Is that what you see?
Then open your eyes, nurse,
You’re not looking at me.

I’ll tell you who I am
As I sit here so still,
As I do at your bidding,
As I eat at your will.

I’m a small child of ten
With a father and mother,
Brothers and sisters,
Who love one another.

A young girl of sixteen
With wings on her feet
Dreaming that soon now
A lover she’ll meet.

A bride soon at twenty,

My heart gives a leap,

Remembering the vows

That I promised to keep.

At twenty-five now,

I have young of my own,

Who need me to guide

And a secure happy home.

A woman of thirty,

My young now grown fast,

Bound to each other

With ties that should last.

At forty, my young sons

Have grown and are gone,

But man’s beside me

To see I don’t moan.

At fifty once more,

Babies play round my knee,

Again we know children

My loved one and me.

Dark days are upon me,

My husband is dead,
I look at the future,
I shudder with dread.

For my young are all rearing
Young of their own,
And I think of the years
And the love that I’ve known.

I’m now an old woman
And nature is cruel;
‘Tis jest to make old age
Look like a fool.

The body, it crumbles,
Grace and vigor depart,
There is now a stone
Where I once had a heart.

But inside this old carcass
A young girl still dwells,
And now and again,
My battered heart swells.

I remember the joys,
I remember the pain,
And I’m loving and living
Life over again.

I think of the years
All too few, gone too fast,
And accept the stark fact
That nothing can last.

So open your eyes, people,
Open and see,
Not a crabby old woman;
Look closer . . . see ME!!

=========================================================

Remember this poem when you next meet an older person who you might
brush aside without looking at the young soul within . . we will all,
one day, be there, too! In fact it might be me.

Advertisements

Spring Reminds Me to Celebrate Youth

In the spring we gaze in awe at the flush of new growth we see all around us. The reviving trees paint the whole countryside with a coat of vibrant, light green. Basswood spring leavesHow to describe this astounding colour? Is it lime green? Not quite. Emerald green; closer but not as dark. Sea green may be closer still. Perhaps bottle green? Whatever the technical term might be, we love how the Creator decorates the hillsides with a thousand subtle shades of spring green. So fresh. So alive.

It reminds us of the vibrancy of young life. The wonder we feel at the birth of a new baby. The energy and excitement of a child. The awesome potential of a young person with his or her whole life ahead. It’s wonderful to celebrate along with youth the hope and dreams they feel.

Many of us older folks remain vibrant and hopeful but sometimes our aches and pains and sorrows make us somewhat jaded and world-weary. Admittedly, there are children who are obnoxious and young people who have a dark and hopeless view of life. But ???????????????????????????????too often we find unnecessary fault with the antics of a child, the perceived carelessness of a teenager, or the brash self-confidence of a twenty-something. Could our irritation be rooted in envy? Or perhaps nostalgia?

Older and younger, we need each other to achieve balance in life. Sadly, the modern breakup of families has left many of us without any positive experience of the warmth of an extended family; children, parents, grandparents, uncles, cousins. We segregate everyone into age brackets: Gen X, Baby Boomers, Millennials, and so on. It may help marketers but it’s not healthy.

Every year has a spring, summer, fall and winter and every human needs connection with people of every age and experience. Pers???????????????????????????????onally, I don’t find living in a senior’s ghetto attractive at all. (To some it may be just what they need.) But most of us seniors need to rub shoulders with children and young people—and they need us older folks. Perhaps some of their joie de vivre will rub off on us and some of our wisdom on them. Perhaps we’ll become more tolerant, better adjusted, less jaded and gloomy. Didn’t Jesus rebuke the disciples for hindering children from coming to him?