THE CRABBY OLD LADY

SEE ME

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. It's 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 Associaton 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 remembered as the author of this "anonymous" poem.

What do you see nurses, what do you see?
What are you thinking, when you look at me?
Do you see~
A crabby old woman, not very wise, uncertain of habit,
with far away eyes.

A person who dribbles her food, and makes no reply
when you say in a loud voice, "I do wish you'd try"
A woman who does not seem to notice
the things that you do, and forever is losing
a stocking or shoe

A person maybe resisting at times,
let's you do as you will, with my bathing and feeding,
and handing me my pills.

Is that what you're thinking? Is that what you see?
Then open your eyes nurses, cause
you're not looking at me.

I'll tell you who I am, as I sit here so still,
as I rise at your bidding, as I eat at your will.
I'm a child of ten with a mother and a father
and 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, the 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 build a secure happy home.
A young woman of thirty, my young now grow fast
bound to each other with ties that should last.

At forty, the young ones are grown and will
soon be gone.
But my man stays beside me, so I don't
feel so alone.
At fifty once more, babies play around my knee.
Again we know children, my loved one and me.

Dark days are upon me, my husbnd is dead,
I look at the future, and I shudder with dread.
for my young ones are all busy,
rearing young of their own and
I think of the years and the love I have known.

I'm an old woman now, and nature is cruel.
Nature makes old age look like such a fool.

The body is crumbled, grace and vigor depart.
There is now a stone where I once had a heart

But inside this carcass, a young girl still dwells.
And now and again my battered heart swells.

I remember the joys, I remembedr the pain,
and I'm loving and lilving life all over again.
I think of the years, all too few, and gone too fast.
and I accept the stark fact that nothing can last.

So open your eyes, nurses,
open them and see,
look a litle closer, nurses...
Please~~see the real ME

Remember it when you next meet an old person
who you might brush aside wiout looking at the
young soul within ... we will all, one day, be
there, too!

Note: Every time this old man reads
this poem, this wonderful and sad poem --
new tears surround me, tug at my heart.
I cry at weddings, I cry at funerals, I cry
when memory brings back all the dead and
maimed fellow soldiers parading before me
once again some 65 years ago.
Excuse me now, I am going to have a real
sit-down, all out sob-fest.

I also cry at man's cruelty to animals.
Now altogether, join me in an eye clearing
torrent of tears.