I Can See Clearly Now

See Me!

Notes: Years ago I received the first of several copies of the Scottish version of the geriatric ward poem written by a Scottish woman. I did not create any HTML for it because it is all over the Internet under the search engines. Just enter "geriatric ward poem" and search. However, I changed my mind after I received a number of Tampa nursing home versions supposedly written by a man that died there. Strange, my family lived in Tampa for a year during WWII. I have a Scottish friend that will know that I tried to verify the origins of this wonderful poem that is included at the back of the Alzheimer's manual for family members. I worked in hospitals and nursing homes while attending the University of Minnesota. I will always be thankful for the training I received and the patients that I met. I also changed bandages for my Mother's father (grandfather Gadbois (we called him, Pous)) for 6 months while he was dying of colon cancer in our front room. Mother asked me after we buried grandfather the week before Christmas, 1961: "Do you regret taking care of Pous? I told her that I wouldn't have traded the time for all the tea in China. I loved him dearly and miss him everyday.

When an old lady died in the geriatric ward of a small hospital near Dundee, Scotland, it was believed that she had nothing left of any value.

Later, when the nurses were going through her meagre 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 remembered as the author of this "anonymous" poem winging across the Internet. Goes to show that we all leave "SOME footprints in time...."

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

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 o f 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, people, Open and see, Not a crabby old woman; Look closer . . . see ME!!!

"I Can See Clearly Now" is a song written and recorded by Johnny Nash. It hit number one on the Billboard Hot 100 on November 4, 1972.

I can see clearly now, the rain is gone,
I can see all obstacles in my way
Gone are the dark clouds that had me blind
It’s gonna be a bright (bright), bright (bright)
Sun-Shiny day.

I think I can make it now, the pain is gone
All of the bad feelings have disappeared
Here is the rainbow I’ve been prayin?for
It’s gonna be a bright (bright), bright (bright)
Sun-Shiny day.

Look all around, there’s nothin?but blue skies
Look straight ahead, nothin?but blue skies

I can see clearly now, the rain is gone,
I can see all obstacles in my way
Gone are the dark clouds that had me blind
It’s gonna be a bright (bright), bright (bright)
Sun-Shiny day.

Nursing Home Eyes

by Todd-Michael St. Pierre

Look into my window,

Observe synthetic flowers

Swaying to a ceiling fan breeze,

And a wallflower, wheelchair- bound at that.

For hours I look out

I see concrete, undernourished shrubs,

Cars and bikes rush by

And they keep me company.

Faded draperies

Speak for years that have fallen behind me.

Suddenly a slave to nostalgia

And withered memories.

Do you see the photographs on my vanity?

Notice how they stare back at me

With abstract smiles for the elderly.

I know they are too busy.

Everyone has his own life to live.

I understand!

Hey . . . would you look into my world?

Share a thought?

I know you have no time to visit.

Yes I am still here,

Alone, but alive.

Tampa Version of Geriatric Old Man

When an old man died in the geriatric ward of a small hospital near Tampa, Florida, 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.

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 .............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.
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!

Please visit the All Generations companion sites.
Grandma.htm
Grandpa.htm
Grandpa0.htm
Genr8ion.htm
Genr8n2.htm