Thursday, December 19, 2013

Crabbit Old Woman and Cranky Old Man

There are two versions of this poem – both beautiful.
One from the women’s perspective and then the man’s
If you’re interested, the origin’s of the poem are at the end.

Crabbit Old Woman

What do you see, nurses what do you se
e
Are you thinking when you are looking at me
A crabbit old woman, not very wi
se,
Uncertain of habit, with faraway e
yes,
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 for ever is losing a stocking
or shoe,
Who unresisting or not, lets you do as
you will
With bathing and feeding, the long d
ay to fill
Is that what you are thinking, is that wh
at you see,
Then open your eyes, nurses, you're not lo
oking at me.

I'll tell you who I am as I sit
here so still,
As I used at your bidding, as I ea
t at your will,
I am a small child of ten with a fa
ther and mother,
Brothers and sisters who
love one another,
A young girl of 16 with
wings on her feet
Dreaming that soon now a
lover she'll meet;
A bride at 20 -- my
heart gives a leap,
Remembering the vows th
at I promised to keep
At 25 now
I have young of my own
Who need me to buil
d a secure, happy home;
A women of 30
my young now grow fast,
Bound to each other wi
th ties that should last,
At 40 my young son
s have grown and are gone;
But my man's besi
de me to see I don't mourn;
At 50, once more
babies play around my knee.
Again we k
now children, my loved one me
Dark days ar
e upon me, my husband is dead,
I look at th
e future, I shudder with dread,
For my young ar
e all rearing young of their own
And I think of the ye
ars and the love that I've known.

I'm a
n old woman now and nature is cruel
'tis her je
st to make old age look like a fool.
The body
it crumbles, grace and vigor depart,
There
is now a stone where once was a heart
But inside thi
s old carcass a young girl still dwells
An
d 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 thin
k 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 crabbit old women look closer - see me.



Cranky Old Man

What do you see nurses? . . .. . .What do you see?
What are you thinking .. . when you're looking at me?
A cranky 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 is 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 ... . . . . 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 man . . . . . . .. and nature is cruel.
It's 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 man 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 cranky old man .
Look closer . . . . see .. .. . .. .... . ME!!


This touching and thought provoking poem, dubbed "Cranky Old Man", is currently circulating rapidly via social media posts and email. The poem relates life from the perspective of an elderly man whose nurses may just perceive a "cranky old man" who needs constant care rather than the man - and the rich lived life - behind the aged body. The poem is prefixed by a story that claims that the poem was found among the meager possessions of an old man who died in a nursing home in an Australian country town.

However, the story that comes with this version of the poem is fictional. The poem was not found in the belongings of a nursing home resident in rural Australia as claimed. Nor was it found among the possessions of an old man who died in a hospital in Florida, USA or any other US location. In fact, there have been numerous - equally fictional - US based versions of the poem's supposed origin.

The poem itself has a long and somewhat convoluted history. The original version of the poem (included below) featured an old woman rather than an old man and was set in the UK. The poem has been known by several names, including "Crabbit Old Woman", "Kate", "Look Closer Nurse" and "What Do You See". For decades, the poem has been included in various publications in the United Kingdom often accompanied by the claim that the poem was found by nursing staff in the belongings of an old woman named Kate who died in a hospital's geriatric ward. Many versions claim that the hospital was located in Scotland. Others claim the hospital was in England or Wales.

In fact, the provenance of the piece remains somewhat hazy. However, credible reports suggest that the poem may actually have been written by Phyllis McCormack in 1966, who at the time was working as a nurse in a Scottish hospital. In a 2005 report about the poem for 'Perspectives on Dementia Care', 5th Annual Conference on Mental Health and Older, Joanna Bornat notes:

Amongst the responses to a small survey which I carried out in 1998 while
researching attitudes to the poem 3 (Bornat, 2004) was a cutting from the Daily Mail
newspaper in which the son of Phyllis McCormack, whose name is often linked with
the poem as its discoverer, explain
ed:

My mother, Phyllis McCormack, wrote this poem in the early Sixties when
she was a nurse at Sunnyside Hospital in Montrose.
Originally entitled Look Closer Nurse, the poem was written for a small
magazine for Sunnyside only Phyllis was very shy and submitted her work
anonymously.
A copy of the magazine was lent to a patient at Ashludie Hospital, Dundee,
who copied it in her own handwriting and kept it in her bedside locker. When
she died, the copy was found and submitted to the Sunday Post newspaper,
attributed to the Ashludie patient.
Since my mother’s death in 1994 her work has travelled all over the world...
(Daily Mail, 12 March 19
98).

Somehow this explanation rings true, though it immediately begs the question of how the origin story was constructed in the first place and whether the poem depends on an apparent myth for its continuing appeal. Encounters have been mixed as responses to
the 1998 survey suggested.


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