The old lady's sole bequest to posterity has since appeared in the Christmas edition of the News Magazine of the Northern 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:

Crabby Old Woman .............

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, people,
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 . .. . we will all,
oneday, be there, too!

This will sound strange, but you know what has really helped me see this clearly: our cats. I didn't know my mom when she was a child of 5, etc...but as an adult (I wasn't allowed to have pets as a child) I have known my cats from kittenhood til old age and it's given me a much clearer sense of the whole arc of life. I'm glad that our daughter has known her cats too and seen them through disease, health, and even disease unto death. Kids who get to see this probably have a much clearer and probably more respectful sense of the journey we are all taking. When I saw my dear Bounder drag himself up on his last day of life, out of his hiding place (after a couple of years of administering fluids, cleaning up barf and excrement, doling out meds, taking him to the ER--all the kinds of stuff we do for our elders) and seek me out basically to put his head up against mine one last time, I could also see the little kitten I brought home from the shelter only a few years earlier, it seemed...and it's helped me to look at senior humans and see the kittens inside as well. Another gift our four-legged dear ones give us.

There was a post recently at the KT that kind of upset me, so I posted this as a spin off post as a reminder for all of us to be less judgemental, more tolerant and compassionate for all humanity (and our four-legged fur-babies as well.

Here's the link to the post, if anyone else cares to read it.

Blessings ~~ katclaws