tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2881389390266605547.post8332778653975783517..comments2020-11-24T21:08:45.254-08:00Comments on The View from Over the Hill: Growing OldSylvia Khttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18259032453252447339noreply@blogger.comBlogger5125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2881389390266605547.post-69937573053610671062008-10-19T08:54:00.000-07:002008-10-19T08:54:00.000-07:00I'm so glad I live as a retiree now rather than in...I'm so glad I live as a retiree now rather than in the past. Your poem got me to thinking about my favourite one - which I have known all my life and was framed and hung on my Mum's bedroom wall.. As sister of my grandmother wrote poetry, we assumed that she who had written it but I have subsequently found out recently that not to be the case. - I warn you though - It's a bit of a tearjerker but I love it ! <BR/><BR/>What do you see, nurse... what do you see?<BR/>Are you thinking - when you look at me:<BR/>"A crabbit old woman, not very wise;<BR/>Uncertain of habit with far-away eyes,<BR/><BR/>Who dribbles her food and makes no reply<BR/>When you say in a loud voice 'I do wish you'd try.'" <BR/>Who seems not to notice the things that you do<BR/>And forever is losing a stocking or shoe;<BR/><BR/>Who, resisting or not, lets you do as you will<BR/>With bathing and feeding, the long day to fill.<BR/>Is that what you're thinking, is that what you see?<BR/>Then open your eyes, nurse. You're not looking at me! <BR/><BR/>I'll tell you who I am as I sit here so still.<BR/>As I move at your bidding, eat at your will: <BR/><BR/>- I'm a small child of ten with a father and mother,<BR/>Brothers and sisters who love one another;<BR/>- A young girl of sixteen with wings on her feet,<BR/> Dreaming that soon a love she'll meet; <BR/><BR/>- A bride at twenty, my heart gives a leap,<BR/> Remembering the vows that I promised to keep;<BR/>- At twenty-five now I have young of my own<BR/> Who need me to build a secure, happy home.<BR/>- A woman of thirty, my young now grow fast.<BR/> Bound together with ties that should last. <BR/><BR/>- At forty, my young sons have grown up and gone,<BR/> But my man's beside me to see I don't mourn;<BR/>- At fifty once more babies play 'round my knee<BR/> Again we know children, my loved ones and me... <BR/><BR/>Dark days are upon me, my husband is dead.<BR/>I look at the future, I shudder with dread.<BR/>For my young are all rearing young of their own,<BR/>And I think of the years <BR/>and the love that I've known. <BR/><BR/>I'm an old woman now, and nature is cruel.<BR/>'Tis her jest to make old age look like a fool.<BR/>The body, it crumbles, grace and vigor depart.<BR/>There is a stone where I once had a heart. <BR/><BR/>But inside this old carcass a young girl still dwells,<BR/>And now again my bittered heart swells;<BR/>I remember the joys, I remember the pain<BR/>and I'm loving and living life over again; <BR/><BR/>I think of the years, all too few, gone too fast<BR/>And accept the stark fact that nothing can last;<BR/>So open your eyes, nurse, open and see...<BR/>not a crabbed old woman. <BR/>Look closer... see me!<BR/><BR/>Now I gather that was written in the early 1900's... Wow, always moves me to tears...Katehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/16979505705280901138noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2881389390266605547.post-38988658559181143182008-10-18T10:52:00.000-07:002008-10-18T10:52:00.000-07:00I think it's a trade off. When we were young we w...I think it's a trade off. When we were young we were so busy and there were exciting things to look forward to, but I wonder if we really had time to appreciate it. Now we have freedom from hectic schedules and can go at our own pace and are not slaves to a schedule.Darlenehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/18373134676852496647noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2881389390266605547.post-92229665270496052402008-10-18T10:19:00.000-07:002008-10-18T10:19:00.000-07:00I know what you mean in the poem. I miss the sati...I know what you mean in the poem. I miss the satisfaction of completing a job - I miss seeing the people I used to work with. <BR/><BR/>I'm working now to develop a routine that involves getting out and meeting people, finding some satisfying volunteer work and just getting myself out of the house more. The lower stress level is worth missing the job.<BR/><BR/>Everything's a little harder now than it was just a <I>few</I> years ago, but I'll get there.<BR/><BR/>Love the poem.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2881389390266605547.post-26657435228214143232008-10-18T09:20:00.000-07:002008-10-18T09:20:00.000-07:00I like your poem very much and I can see a lot of ...I like your poem very much and I can see a lot of truth in it. I do miss my working life and my social life before I retired sometimes but mostly I am happy with the way things are now. I have mellowed a lot and life seems not nearly as stressful.Judyhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12078537002880283509noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2881389390266605547.post-38542896135782608262008-10-18T08:02:00.000-07:002008-10-18T08:02:00.000-07:00I like that poem and yes, that is the mix of feeli...I like that poem and yes, that is the mix of feelings I often feel too. There is a purpose to old age though but it's not what it was when young. It's a new purpose and often it's hard to look at it when the world around is all oriented to youthRain Trueaxhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/07994628226501093880noreply@blogger.com