Crabby Old Man

Keith A. Wells Sr.'s Photos
CRABBY OLD MAN

When an old man died in the geriatric ward of a nursing home in North Platte , Nebraska , 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 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 Missouri . The old man's sole bequest to posterity has since appeared in the Christmas edition of the News Magazine of the St. Louis Association for Mental Health.. A slide presentation has also been made based on his simple, but eloquent, poem.

And this little old man, with nothing left to give to the world, is now the author of this 'anonymous' poem winging across the Internet.


Crabby Old Man

What do you see nurses? . . What do you see?
What are you thinking . . . . . when you're looking at me?
A crabby 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'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 wife is now dead.
I look at the future ... . .. . . . . . . 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.
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 guy 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 crabby old man. Look closer . . . see ME!!

Remember this poem when you next meet an older person who you might brush aside without looking at the young soul within . . . . we will all, one day, be there, too!

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The best and most beautiful things of this world can't be seen or touched. They must be felt by the heart.

Word for the Day - Perception

In my usual events of the day, when going to prepare dinner before my husband gets home from work, I load the dishwasher with odds and ends cleaning out the sink and wiping down counters. Then items come out to cook. It never fails that my daughter will come into the kitchen and ask, "What are you doing?" So tonight I asked her if she could see what I was doing. She replied, "Cleaning up to cook dinner?" I said, "Yes, good girl". She then told me that I did not have to talk to her like a dog.

I was taken back by this comment. I did not intend or perceive that I had done such a thing to her.

Only later at the dinner table when I told her dad what she had accused me of did she conclude that when she hears the words "good girl" that she thinks of a dog.

I told her my intentions were good and supposed to be compliment.

A teenager she is. A special lady with disabilities she is. It is hard some times to understand or communicate with her, but I am delighted to have her as my daughter.

per·cep·tion
   [per-sep-shuhn]
noun
1.
the act or faculty of apprehending by means of the senses or of the mind; cognition; understanding.
2.
immediate or intuitive recognition or appreciation, as of moral, psychological, or aesthetic qualities; insight; intuition; discernment: an artist of rare perception.
3.
the result or product of perceiving, as distinguished from the act of perceiving; percept.

Beauty

My horoscope recently read, "Through the ages, many different body types have been heralded as icons of beauty. Your motivation will be greatest when you love and enjoy the shape and size you are."

Now, just to let you know, I don't read my horoscope every day, every other day, but maybe once or twice a month. This one seemed to speak to me because I have never been the "thin" body type. Even as a child I was always called big and it was usually tagged along with tall. (Wonder how I ended up being the shortest in my siblings?)

I even had a foster mother tell me that my ears were big. Then she would have my hair cut short to expose my ears.

Also, she told me as a teenager that I looked like a cow in white pants. I therefore, chose not to wear white remembering these things.

There were years when I never admired myself in the mirror and still many times today I will glance to make sure my hair is "not too wild" but to critique my appearance otherwise is not allowed in my mind.

I do enjoy seeing other people in outfits and admiring their style. I saw an older lady today at the grocery store with silvery gray hair. She was wearing a peach cotton top and matching skirt. Then she had a light floral print jacket. My thought immediately was how comfortable she looked and just simply "pretty".

While on vacation, I noticed how I had started wearing plain cotton t-shirts (usually gray or black) and then black leggings as my regular wardrobe. Mainly this is for comfort and then also because I am and have been at home for years and then working in a group home on 3rd shift. I don't meet with the public in a professional manner. This has made me determine that I am possibly in a "slump". I recently purchased myself a few bracelets and am wearing some of my daughter's cotton bright color tops and floral prints lately. Maybe I am turning a new leaf and will continue on to colorize my attire.

I still hate stepping on a scale, but am going to try to be more positive when stepping in front of a mirror or looking at a photo of myself.

"Your motivation will be greatest when you love and enjoy the shape and size you are." -- I do truly believe this!!!