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 A Life Remembered

I have had this poem for many years, first on a piece of newspaper print, that has become weathered over the years. Thankfully, I also copied it into a notebook. Just how long have I had it, you may be wondering, let’s just say a long, long, time. In fact, I still have the paper chain I made in kindergarten for the Christmas tree. Some things are worth keeping, this poem was one of them. It was found among the possessions of a unknown woman who passed away in the geriatric ward of the Ashgludie Hospital, near Dundee, Scotland.

Who Do You See?

Who do you see nurses, what do you see?
What are you thinking when you are looking at me?
A crabbit 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 who is forever losing a stocking or shoe.
Who unresisting or not let’s you do as you will.
With bathing and feeding, the long day to fill.
Is that what you see nurses, is that what you see?
Then open your eyes, you not looking at me.

I’ll tell you who I am as I sit here so still
As I rise at your bidding and eat at your will.
I’m a small child of ten with a mother and father.
With sisters and brothers who love one and another
A young girl of sixteen with wings on her feet.
Dreaming that soon a lover she’ll meet.

A bride soon twenty my heart gives a leap.
Remembering the vows that I promised to keep.
At twenty-five, now I have young children of my own.
Who need me to build a secure, happy home.
A woman of thirty, my young now grow fast,
Bound to each other with ties that should last.

At forty, my young sons have grown and are gone.
But my man’s still beside me to see that I don’t mourn.
At fifty, 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 and shudder with dread.
All my young are rearing children of their own.
And I think of all the years and the love I’ve known.
I’m an old woman know, and nature is cruel.
Tis is just to make an old age look like a fool.

The body is crumbled, grace and vigor depart,
There is now a stone where there once was a heart.
But inside this old carcass, a young girl still dwells.
And now and again a battered heart swells.

I thin of all the years, all too few… gone too fast,
And accept the stark fact that nothing can last.
And so, open your eyes nurse, open and see..
Not a crabbit old woman, look closer…see ME!

This poem was found among her possessions when she passed. There is no information as to who she was, when she died, nor what was her name.

Remember your elders as they are part of your history. Life circumstances sometimes change a person’s demeanor. No one but the person knows what hardships they faced throughout life. Remember to hug your elders a little tighter. You never know how soon they will be called and gone out of your life …………………

                                                            FOREVER.