our life

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 feetDreaming 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 grow n 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!

I have such a soft spot for old people. I love the soft contours of their faces and hands. The gentel yet strong way they grip your hand. The knowing smiles, the twinkle in their eyes as they recount a story the remember so dear. I have a dream, that one day I will make a difference in the lives of old people. I know it sounds strange that I have a passion for old people. Most people think of sickness, smells, crabby people that revert back to childhood. I see a knowing person who has weathered life's storms and wants to hold the dignity and respect as a smart, knowledgable person as they inevitably fight the turning hands of time. It's sad when I see people give an old person a sigh or roll of the eyes or the 'I'm glad it's not me' look as they pass by.
I want to help them keep their dignity and their health and make sure they are given sacantaty in their golden years. I want to build a bridge of hope as people pass from one era of their lives into the next and connect them back to the younger generation of this world.