Crabbit Old Woman

"Crabbit Old Woman" By: Phyllis McCormack

What do you see, nurse, what do you see?

What are you thinking, when you look at me-

A crabbit old woman, not very wise,

Uncertain of habit, with far-away 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, unresisting or not; lets you do as you will

With bathing and feeding the long day is fill.

Is that what you're thinking, Is that what you see?

Then open your eyes, nurse, you're looking at me.      

I'll tell you who I am as I sit here so still!

As I rise at your bidding, as I eat at your will.

I'm a small child of 10 with a father and mother,

Brothers and sisters, who loved one another-

A young girl of 16 with wings on her feet,

Dreaming that soon now a lover she'll meet,

A bride soon at 20 - my heart gives a leap,

Recalling the vows that I promised to keep.

At 25 now I have young of my own

Who need me to build a secure happy home;

A woman of 30, my young now grow fast,

Bound to each other with ties that should last;

At 40, my young sons have grown and are gone,

But my man is beside me to see I don't mourn;          

                           

At 50 once more babies play around 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 ones of their own.

And I think of the years and the love that I've known;

I'm an old woman now and nature is cruel-

Tis her jest to make old age look like a fool.

The body is crumbled, 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 joy, 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, nurse, open and see,

Not a crabbit old woman, look closer-

See Me.

 Crabbit Old Woman is a poem written in 1966 by Phyllis McCormack, then working as a nurse in Sunnyside Hospital, Montrose. The poem is written in the voice of an old woman in a nursing home who is reflecting upon her life. Crabbit isScots for "bad-tempered" or "grumpy".