You can judge your age
by the amount of pain you feel
when you come in contact with a new idea. 1
I try to grow old gracefully
As some people do I am told,
But how do they do it?
Will you tell me
For I try,
but I can't stay young and grow old.
For there's a crook in my back,
And my joints all crack,
And my hair is dull and gray.
I slip past a glass, without a glance
For my face is all wrinkled each way.
And when I think of my children, three,
and their children which really are ten
And the fifteen more in generation four
I really can't fool myself then.
But still I can laugh at a really good joke
And am happy as happy can be
For you see,
I have so many dear ones to love,
And so many dear ones to love me. 2
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!
Seniors:
How Old is Old?
We say “Junior and Senior High”, as well as
“senior year at college, and in the work place
the pecking order is based on “seniority”.
Today no one really seems to know
when we become “seniors”, or what "old" means –
it’s used too generally to make it either
fully clear or truly meaningful.
Perhaps being “senior” only really means
“older than you”, or “longer at it than you”.
As for a specific “age” when one "officially" becomes
a senior, consider that for older people
some places give “senior discounts” at 55;
others at 65; and some allow you to join
at 50 – and start sending you mail when
you're 48! No wonder it’s confusing.
So what is a senior? Maybe ”senior” describes
a certain age-level (or cohort), or refers to a certain
physical stage, when it takes longer to do certain
activities, or work.
It's impossible to generalize about "seniors."
Each person is an individual, with a unique set
of life experiences, genetics and current needs.
I believe "successful aging" means
being able to live up to your full potential,
whatever that may be for you,
no matter your age or condition.
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.
He was my man
and I was his lady
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;
He is still my man.
I will always be his lady;
for you only ever truly love once
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 vigor 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!! . . .
Remember this poem when you next meet an old person
who you might brush aside without looking
at the young soul within . . .
We will one day be there, too. 3
- a woman's bequest to posterity . . .
by the amount of pain you feel
when you come in contact with a new idea. 1
I try to grow old gracefully
As some people do I am told,
But how do they do it?
Will you tell me
For I try,
but I can't stay young and grow old.
For there's a crook in my back,
And my joints all crack,
And my hair is dull and gray.
I slip past a glass, without a glance
For my face is all wrinkled each way.
And when I think of my children, three,
and their children which really are ten
And the fifteen more in generation four
I really can't fool myself then.
But still I can laugh at a really good joke
And am happy as happy can be
For you see,
I have so many dear ones to love,
And so many dear ones to love me. 2
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!
Seniors:
How Old is Old?
We say “Junior and Senior High”, as well as
“senior year at college, and in the work place
the pecking order is based on “seniority”.
Today no one really seems to know
when we become “seniors”, or what "old" means –
it’s used too generally to make it either
fully clear or truly meaningful.
Perhaps being “senior” only really means
“older than you”, or “longer at it than you”.
As for a specific “age” when one "officially" becomes
a senior, consider that for older people
some places give “senior discounts” at 55;
others at 65; and some allow you to join
at 50 – and start sending you mail when
you're 48! No wonder it’s confusing.
So what is a senior? Maybe ”senior” describes
a certain age-level (or cohort), or refers to a certain
physical stage, when it takes longer to do certain
activities, or work.
It's impossible to generalize about "seniors."
Each person is an individual, with a unique set
of life experiences, genetics and current needs.
I believe "successful aging" means
being able to live up to your full potential,
whatever that may be for you,
no matter your age or condition.
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.
He was my man
and I was his lady
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;
He is still my man.
I will always be his lady;
for you only ever truly love once
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 vigor 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!! . . .
Remember this poem when you next meet an old person
who you might brush aside without looking
at the young soul within . . .
We will one day be there, too. 3
- a woman's bequest to posterity . . .
He: If I were a carpenter
And you were a lady,
Would you marry me anyway?
Would you have my baby?
She: If you were a carpenter,
And I were a lady,
I'd marry you anyway.
I'd have your baby.
He: If a tinker was my trade,
Would I still find you?
She: I'd be carryin' the pots you made,
Followin' behind you.
Together: Save your love through loneliness,
Save your love though sorrow,
He: I'd give you my onliness,
Together: Give me your tomorrow. 4
And you were a lady,
Would you marry me anyway?
Would you have my baby?
She: If you were a carpenter,
And I were a lady,
I'd marry you anyway.
I'd have your baby.
He: If a tinker was my trade,
Would I still find you?
She: I'd be carryin' the pots you made,
Followin' behind you.
Together: Save your love through loneliness,
Save your love though sorrow,
He: I'd give you my onliness,
Together: Give me your tomorrow. 4
When you come to the edge of all the light you know
and are about to step into the darkness of the unknown.
Faith is knowing that one of two things will happen.
There will be solid ground to stand on
or you will be taught to fly. 5
Sometimes as time moves along –
we either forget,
or stop,
to fly . . . .
I don't believe one grows older.
I think that what happens early on in life
is that at a certain age one stands still and stagnates. 6
Our society must make it right and possible
for old people not to fear the young
or be deserted by them,
for the test of a civilization
is the way that it cares for its helpless members. 7
How are you spending the first half of your life?
Will you grow old gracefully?
and are about to step into the darkness of the unknown.
Faith is knowing that one of two things will happen.
There will be solid ground to stand on
or you will be taught to fly. 5
Sometimes as time moves along –
we either forget,
or stop,
to fly . . . .
I don't believe one grows older.
I think that what happens early on in life
is that at a certain age one stands still and stagnates. 6
Our society must make it right and possible
for old people not to fear the young
or be deserted by them,
for the test of a civilization
is the way that it cares for its helpless members. 7
How are you spending the first half of your life?
Will you grow old gracefully?
Acknowledgements:
[1] ~Pearl S. Buck
[2] - Growing Old Gracefully ~Mary Boyd Bean Arnold (Aunt Mate)
B. Mar 10, 1866 Clay twp., LaGrange Co., In
D. December 13, 1964 Sturgis, Michigan
(daughter of Nancy Carnahan and Arion Boyd)
Taken from Driftwood, a magazine of verse,
February of 1945, when she was 79 years old.
[3] -Crabby Old Woman ~Author unknown
(aka as An Old Lady's Poem)
When an old lady died in the geriatric ward of a small hospital
near Dundee, Scotland, it was felt that she had nothing left of any value.
Later, when the nurses were going through her 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 Ireland. The old lady's sole bequest to
posterity has since appeared in the Christmas edition
of the News Magazine of the North.
A slide presentation has also been made based on his simple, but
eloquent, poem.
And this little old lady, with “nothing” left to give to the world, is now
the authoress of this anonymous poem winging across the Internet.
Sometime this comes in the form of “A Cranky Old Man”,
with a similar, yet different description as to its origins.
Perhaps both are right – or neither is.
[4] ~Johnny Cash & June Carter-Cash
[5] ~Author Unknown
[6] ~T.S. Eliot
[7] ~Pearl S. Buck
Media: I Am Woman (Roberta Flack)
Presented by Dawn Cove Abbey
[1] ~Pearl S. Buck
[2] - Growing Old Gracefully ~Mary Boyd Bean Arnold (Aunt Mate)
B. Mar 10, 1866 Clay twp., LaGrange Co., In
D. December 13, 1964 Sturgis, Michigan
(daughter of Nancy Carnahan and Arion Boyd)
Taken from Driftwood, a magazine of verse,
February of 1945, when she was 79 years old.
[3] -Crabby Old Woman ~Author unknown
(aka as An Old Lady's Poem)
When an old lady died in the geriatric ward of a small hospital
near Dundee, Scotland, it was felt that she had nothing left of any value.
Later, when the nurses were going through her 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 Ireland. The old lady's sole bequest to
posterity has since appeared in the Christmas edition
of the News Magazine of the North.
A slide presentation has also been made based on his simple, but
eloquent, poem.
And this little old lady, with “nothing” left to give to the world, is now
the authoress of this anonymous poem winging across the Internet.
Sometime this comes in the form of “A Cranky Old Man”,
with a similar, yet different description as to its origins.
Perhaps both are right – or neither is.
[4] ~Johnny Cash & June Carter-Cash
[5] ~Author Unknown
[6] ~T.S. Eliot
[7] ~Pearl S. Buck
Media: I Am Woman (Roberta Flack)
Presented by Dawn Cove Abbey
For prayer requests and more, visit our sister site Stella Maris,
- a place where truth and beauty dwells: or write for information.
- a place where truth and beauty dwells: or write for information.
To submit comments, requests or materials,
contact me at: outreach@dawncoveabbey.org
contact me at: outreach@dawncoveabbey.org
I gladly welcome all article, haiku, humour and poem contributions
For empowerment workshops and seminars see: http://www.dawncoveabbey.org/healing-circle
For empowerment workshops and seminars see: http://www.dawncoveabbey.org/healing-circle
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