When you see an old person!
Mattie was a very dear family friend. She had been a very bright 90
year old but her body was badly ravaged by time - she died in the
Geriatric Ward of a hospital in Lanarkshire in Scotland. On one of our
many visits she complained about being "spoken about" and very rarely
"spoken to". She disliked being talked about as if she wasn't there!.
She desperately wanted to be included in the conversation.
This poem was written by one of her nurses when she retired. It reflects what Mattie experienced and felt - what
many old people feel - what many disabled people feel.
Seniors know this to be true - there is a young fit person inside all of
us. Most people - even sme nurses - do tend to treat the elderly
and disabled people as senile or "not all there". Even
us younger OAPs are sometimes guilty! Please be patient with people
older - and even younger - than yourself!
Please pass on this poem to a friend - spread the message of the poem -
we owe this to all our elderly and disabled friends or indeed, anyone who
has been placed in a vulnerable position. Perhaps one day
people will begin to treat the elderly and disabled with more respect.
see
Nurses Reply
It could be YOU
Mattie's Poem
What do you see, nursie, 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 use 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 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'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, nursie, open and see,
not a crabby old woman; look closer - see ME!!
see
Nurses Reply (to Mattie) What do we see, you ask, what do we
see? Yes, we are thinking when looking at thee.....
|
|
When
you see an old person!
