"Crabby Old Man" Poem

This is a picture taken last Thanksgiving of my daddy. Please don't be taken back by the title of the posting. My daddy is NOT a "crabby old man", but I think it is more interesting to add pictures along with the written words. Please hang with me here. My daddy is now 89 years old and really gets along fairly well. He still lives independently in his own little apartment and continues to drive. I searched my pictures for an older man...I do have several, but I did not want to post a picture of someone who might object to their picture on a blog. I don't think Daddy will care. Now to the point.....Since blogging is like journaling, I sometimes like to add things that touched me, made me pause, or so impacted me that it causes me to change my actions or thinking.

The following is part of an email I received this week. Because of the detail I believe it to be true. It is a story of an elderly man who died in the geriatric ward of a small hospital near Tampa, Florida. It was believed the man had nothing left of any value. Later, when the nurses were going through his meager possessions, they found this poem. The staff was so impressed that they made copies and distributed to every nurse in the hospital. One nurse took her copy to Missouri. The old man's sole bequest to posterity has since appeared in the Christmas edition of the News Magazine of the St. Louis Assn. for Mental Health (I have not verified this). At any rate I thought it worth the read.

What do you see nurses? What do you see?

What are you thinking...when you're looking at me?

A crabby old man, ...not very wise,

Uncertain of habit....with faraway eyes?

Who dribbles his 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 sock 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...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 boy of sixteen..with wings on his feet

Dreamin' that soon now...a lover he'll meet.

A groom 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 man 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 my woman's beside me...to see I don't mourn.

At fifty, once more,...Babies play 'round my knee,

Again, we know children...My loved one and me.

Dark days are upon me...My wife is now 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 man...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 guy 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 to fast.

And accept the stark fact....that nothing can last.

So open your eyes people...open and see.

Not a crabby old man, look closer...see.....ME!!

I sent this to some of my nurse friends, but anyone may need to be reminded of this poem the next time they meet an older person who they might brush aside without looking at the young soul within...if we live long enough, we will one day be there too!

Sorry, I tried and tried to format this poem and I guess because of the length the computer just did its own thing.