June 2001 The Megaphone Page 8
Our
Senior Citizens Page
Some Footprints in Time
Date: Sat, 19 May 2001
From: Toots
To: Panther Den
When an old lady died in the geriatric ward of a small hospital near Dundee, Scotland, it was felt that she had nothing left of any value.
Later, when the nurses were going through her meager possessions, they found this poem. Its quality and content so impressed the staff that copies were made and distributed to every nurse in the hospital.
One nurse took her copy to Ireland. The old lady's sole bequest to posterity has since appeared in the Christmas edition of the News Magazine of the North Ireland Association for Mental Health. A slide presentation has also been made based on her simple, but eloquent poem. And this little old Scottish lady, with nothing left to give to the world, is now the author of this "anonymous" poem winging across the Internet. Goes to show that we all leave "...some footprints in time."
An Old Lady's Poem
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 faraway 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; 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 girl of sixteen, with wings on her feet,
Dreaming
that soon now 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 now, I have young of my own,
Who
need me to guide and a secure happy home.
A
woman 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 man'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 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 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'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, nurses, open and see,
Not
a crabby old woman; look closer ... see ME!!
Remember this poem when you next meet an old person who you might brush aside without looking at the young soul within. If not already there ... we will one day be there, too!
Toots
Davies 1948
Catherine (Davies) Pethoud
Kokomo,
IN