The Crabbit Old Woman
This is a true story right from the heart of England. Get your tissues ready!
When an old lady (unknown) died in her
geriatric ward of a hospital in England, it appeared she had nothing left of
value.
The nurse packing up her possessions found this poem. The quality impressed the staff so much that copies were distributed to all the nurses in the hospital.
This poem then later went on to appear in the Christmas edition of “Beacon House News”, a magazine of the Northern Ireland Mental Health Association. This was the Lady’s bequest for posterity.
The nurse packing up her possessions found this poem. The quality impressed the staff so much that copies were distributed to all the nurses in the hospital.
This poem then later went on to appear in the Christmas edition of “Beacon House News”, a magazine of the Northern Ireland Mental Health Association. This was the Lady’s bequest for posterity.
What do you see nurse, what do you
see?
What are you thinking when you look at me?
A crabbit old woman,
Not very wise,
Uncertain of habit with far away eyes,
Who dribbles her food, and makes no reply,
Then you say in a loud voice -
“I do wish you would try”
Who seems not to notice the things that you do,
and forever is losing a stocking or shoe,
Unresisting or not, lets you do as you will,
With bathing of 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 move at your bidding,
As I eat at your will.
I’m a small child of ten, with a father and mother,
And brothers and sisters who love one another.
A girl of sixteen, with wings on her feet;
dreaming that soon, 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,
I have young,
Who need me to build a secure and happy home.
A woman of 30,
My young now grow fast,
Bound together with ties that forever should last.
At forty,
My young ones have grown up and gone,
My man is beside me to see I don’t mourn,
At fifty, once more…
Babies play ‘round my knees;
Again we know children,
My loved ones 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 I have known.
I am an old woman now,
Nature is cruel,
‘Tis her 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 girl still dwells,
And now and again,
My battered heart swells.
I remember the joys,
I remember the pain,
And I am 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 nurses,
Open, and see…
Not a “Crabbit Old Woman”,
Look closer,
See me.
What are you thinking when you look at me?
A crabbit old woman,
Not very wise,
Uncertain of habit with far away eyes,
Who dribbles her food, and makes no reply,
Then you say in a loud voice -
“I do wish you would try”
Who seems not to notice the things that you do,
and forever is losing a stocking or shoe,
Unresisting or not, lets you do as you will,
With bathing of 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 move at your bidding,
As I eat at your will.
I’m a small child of ten, with a father and mother,
And brothers and sisters who love one another.
A girl of sixteen, with wings on her feet;
dreaming that soon, 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,
I have young,
Who need me to build a secure and happy home.
A woman of 30,
My young now grow fast,
Bound together with ties that forever should last.
At forty,
My young ones have grown up and gone,
My man is beside me to see I don’t mourn,
At fifty, once more…
Babies play ‘round my knees;
Again we know children,
My loved ones 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 I have known.
I am an old woman now,
Nature is cruel,
‘Tis her 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 girl still dwells,
And now and again,
My battered heart swells.
I remember the joys,
I remember the pain,
And I am 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 nurses,
Open, and see…
Not a “Crabbit Old Woman”,
Look closer,
See me.
No comments:
Post a Comment