 |
 |
|
   |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
| When and elderly lady died in a hospital in Dundee, Scotland this poem was found with her things. It impressed the staff and copies were made and given to all the nurses in the hospital and alsoprinted in the News Magazine of Northern Ireland. 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 far away 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, lets 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; Your 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 child of ten, with a father and mother, brothers and sisters who love one another. A young girl of 16, with wings on her feet, dreaming that soon now a lover she'll meet. A bride soon at 20 my heart gives a leap, remembering the vows that I promised to keep. At 25 now, i have young of my own, who need me to guide and secure a happy home. A woman of 30, my young now grown fast, bound to each other with ties that should last. At 40, my young sons have grown and are gone, but my man's beside me to see I don't mourn. At 50 once more, babies play around 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 once i had a heart. But inside this old carcass a young girl still dwells, and now and a gain my battered heart swells. I remember the joys, I remember the pain, 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...and see ME!! Remember this poem when you next meet an old person you might brush aside without looking at the young soul within...we will one day be there too. |
|
 |
 |
|
|
|