Mother Nature and the Cranky Old Man

Botticelli.  Primavera.

Hello! How is everyone doing on the East Coast? We started getting rain and the winds have been coming in little gusts. I guess that we are as ready as we can be. I just hope that Mother Nature is kind. In the meantime I am puttering on the Internet and trying to get my work done in case the power goes out. 

I received a copy of the poem below, by email and from a post on Facebook and although I was touched by the poem I wasn’t sure about the story. So I did a little investigating and it turns out that this poem was actually written in the 1960’s in Scotland by a nurse named Phyllis McCormack and was titled Crabbit Old Woman. The version that is making its way around various social media sites today is adapted from this poem and written by David L. Griffith. 

“When an old man died in the geriatric ward of a nursing home in an Australian country town, it was believed that he had nothing left of any value. Later, when the nurses were going through his meager possessions, they found this poem. Its  

so impressed the staff that copies were made and distributed to every nurse in the hospital. And this old man, with nothing left to give to the world, is now the author of this ‘anonymous’ poem that is spreading across the Internet:”

Cranky Old Man:

What do you see nurses? What do you see?

What are you thinking when you’re looking at me?

A cranky 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

Dreaming 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 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 my woman is 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.

It’s jest to make old age look like a fool.

The body, it crumbles. Grace and vigour, depart.

There is now a stone where I once had a heart.

But inside this old carcass, A young man 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 cranky old man.

Look closer . . . . see .. .. . .. …. . ME!!

What do you think? Did you receive this same poem? Frankly I am not too concerned about the origins of the poem, I think the poem makes one stops and think. There are so many old and infirm people living alone or in nursing homes and frankly, most times no one sees them. 

After spending the last 15 years with my husband visiting a dear aunt in a nursing home I can tell you that there are so many men and women who are ignored and forgotten. Yes, a few of them have no family but many others are just left there to die. 

I hope as this poem “goes viral” it makes anyone that reads it pause and think, is there a family member, someone in the neighborhood, or at church that you could reach out to and let them know they are special and they are remembered?

It certainly has made me think, not only about my own aging relatives, but people that I see daily and weekly and it will definitely affect the way I think of them and treat them in the future. Perhaps I will have more patience, or  I will take more time to listen. 

I hope you have a great day whatever you are doing! If you are in the path of the storm be safe.