What do you see, when you are looking at me?

I have been looking for this poem for years, and for some reason I searched again today and found it (where were we before search engines)? I was on the wall of a country hospital many years ago. It was the line it was the line "But inside this old carcass a young girl still dwells" that moved me so much. I have always remembered that an old person is still looking out at the world with their young eyes and heart. We so easily forget (or don’t care to ask) about their lives of love, the decisions they made and how it feels to be in their aging bodies.

The thing is, we will all be there one day and if we can learn to engage and learn our own lives can be enriched and we can lose the fear of aging and inevitably our own mortality.

When I think about it now, I can see why I have been drawn to working with people to have open conversations about end of life is actually about life itself, reflecting and connecting to our lived experiences that shaped the decisions we made and the value and beliefs we hold.

Have a read and pause the next time you encounter someone you consider old.,

An Old Lady’s Poem (author unknown)

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 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, nurses, open and see,

Not a crabby old woman; look closer…see me!