Cranky Old Man

Photo Credit: chilombianovia morguefile.com

When an old man died in the geriatric ward of a nursing home in an Australian country town, 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 Melbourne. The old man’s sole bequest to posterity has since appeared in the Christmas editions of magazines around the country and appearing in mags for Mental Health. A slide presentation has also been made based on his simple, but eloquent, poem.

And this old man, with nothing left to give to the world, is now the author of this ‘anonymous’ poem winging across the Internet.
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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 vigor, 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!!

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!

The Old Man and His Garden

Every once in a while, people will come across stories that make them smile and make them think, “That was pretty cool.” Such is the case in today’s story. It is a story of an old man and his tomato garden. I hope it brings a smile to your face and a little joy to your life.

The Old Man and His Garden

An old Italian gentleman lived alone in New Jersey. He wanted to plant his annual tomato garden, but it was very difficult work, as the ground was hard and dry. His only son, Vincent, who used to help him, was in prison. So, one day, the old man decided to write a letter to his son and described his predicament.

“Dear Vincent,

I am feeling pretty sad because it looks like I won’t be able to plant my tomato garden this year. I am just getting too old to be digging up a garden plot. I know that if you were here my troubles would be over. I know that you would be happy to dig the plot for me…like in the old days.

Love,

Papa”

A few days later he received a letter from his son.

“Dear Papa,

Don’t dig up that garden! That’s where the bodies are buried!

Love,

Vinnie”

At 4 a.m. the next morning, FBI agents and local police arrived and dug up the entire area without finding any bodies. They apologized to the old man and left.

That same day the old man received another letter from his son.

“Dear Papa,

Go ahead and plant your tomatoes now. That’s the best I could do under the circumstances.

Love you,

Vinnie”

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Note: In addition to writing my own blogs / stories, I also like to search for stories and other inspiring / motivating / encouraging things from around the World Wide Web. If you see an article or story that you have written and want it removed, please feel free to let me know. I do try to give credit to the people and/or web sites that I find the information when I can.