When an old man died in the geriatric ward of a nursing home in GRASS VALLEY, CA.
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.

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 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........................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 SHARE THIS POEM

FIND SOMETHING BEAUTIFUL TO NOTICE

Lisa Beamer recalled this story:

"I had a very special teacher in high school many years ago whose husband died suddenly of a heart attack. About a week after his death, she shared some of her insight with a classroom of students. As the late afternoon sunlight came streaming in through the classroom windows and the class was nearly over, she moved a few things aside on the edge of her desk and sat down there.

With a gentle look of reflection on her face, she paused and said, ' Class is over, I would like to share with all of you, a thought that is unrelated to class, but which I feel is very important. Each of us is put here on earth to learn, share, love, appreciate and give of ourselves. None of us knows when this fantastic experience will end. It can be taken away at any moment.

Perhaps this is God's way of telling us that we must make the most out of every single day. Her eyes, beginning to water, she went on, 'So I would like you all to make me a promise. From now on, on your way to school, or on your way home, find something beautiful to notice.

It doesn't have to be something you see, it could be a scent, perhaps of freshly baked bread wafting out of someone's house, or it could be the sound of the breeze slightly rustling the leaves in the trees, or the way the morning light catches one autumn leaf as it falls gently to the ground. Please look for these things, and cherish them. For, although it may sound trite to some, these things are the "stuff" of life. The little things we are put here on earth to enjoy. The things we often take for granted. The class was completely quiet.

We all picked up our books and filed out of the room silently. That afternoon, I noticed more things on my way home from school than I had that whole semester. Every once in a while, I think of that teacher and remember what an impression she made on all of us, and I try to appreciate all of those things that sometimes we all overlook.

Take notice of something special you see on your lunch hour today. Go barefoot. Or walk on the beach at sunset. Stop off on the way home tonight to get a double dip ice cream cone. For as we get older, it is not the things we did that we often regret, but the things we didn't do.

"Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away."

HAVE A GREAT DAY!

In GOD we trust ...

Were you contacted for this survey?

October 19, 2010

It was reported on the CBS Evening News tonight that 87% of Americans report they will have more than enough money from Social Security for the necessary basics once they retire.

My question is this:

1. Who are these people?

2. Why wasn't I called?

3. Were they ALL drinking?

4. What did the other 13% say?

5. And the most important question:

How did they choose between food, heat and medicine?

I can only afford one choice!

Thank God cat food is cheap and I'm a bit healthier than some!

attributed to Will Rodgers

ABOUT GROWING OLDER...

First ~ Eventually you will reach a point when you stop lying about your age and start bragging about it.

Second ~ The older we get, the fewer things seem worth waiting in line for.

Third ~ Some people try to turn back their odometers. Not me; I want people to know 'why' I look this way. I've traveled a long way, and some of the roads weren't paved.

Fourth ~ When you are dissatisfied and would like to go back to youth, think of Algebra.

Fifth ~ You know you are getting old when everything either dries up or leaks.

Sixth ~ I don't know how I got over the hill without getting to the top.

Seventh ~ One of the many things no one tells you about aging is that it is such a nice change from being young.

Eighth ~ One must wait until evening to see how splendid the day has been.

Ninth ~ Being young is beautiful, but being old is comfortable.

Tenth ~ Long ago, when men cursed and beat the ground with sticks, it was called witchcraft. Today it's called golf.

And, finally ~ If you don't learn to laugh at trouble, you won't have anything to laugh at when you are old.

In God We Trust

Pretty cool read!

I'll have that extra pie please

I would never trade my amazing friends,
my wonderful life, my loving family for
less gray hair or a flatter belly.
As I've aged, I've become kinder
to myself, and less critical of
myself. I've become my own friend.
I don't chide myself for eating that
extra cookie, or for not making my bed,
or for buying that silly cement gecko
that I didn't need, but  looks so avante
garde on my patio. I am entitled to a treat,
to be messy, to be extravagant. 

I have seen too many dear friends leave this
world too soon; before they understood the great
freedom that comes with aging.

Whose business is it if I choose to read or play
on the computer until 4 AM and sleep until noon?
I will dance with myself to those wonderful tunes
of the 60 &70's, and if I, at the same time, wish
to weep over a lost love ... I will.

I will walk the beach in a swim suit that is stretched
over a bulging body, and will dive into the waves with
abandon if I choose to, despite the pitying glances from
the jet set.
    
They, too, will get old. I know I am sometimes forgetful.
But there again, some of life is just as well forgotten.
And I eventually remember the important things.

Sure, over the years my heart has been broken.
How can your heart not  break when you lose a
loved one, or when a child suffers, or even when
somebody's beloved pet gets hit by a car? But broken
hearts are what give us strength and understanding and
compassion. A heart never broken is pristine and
sterile and will never know the joy of being imperfect.

    
I am so blessed to have lived long enough to have my
hair turning gray, and to have my youthful laughs be
forever  etched into deep grooves on my face.

So many have never laughed,and so many have died
before their hair could turn silver. 

As you get older, it is easier to be positive.
You care less about what other people think.

I don't question myself anymore..

I've even earned the right to be wrong.

So, to answer your question, I like being old.
It has set me free. I like the person I have become.
I am not going to live forever, but while I am still
here, I will not waste time lamenting what could
have been, or worrying about what will be. And I shall
eat dessert  every single day(if I feel like it).

                                          Author Unknown