on 31-01-2016 09:06
Prob the most loved of all radio presenters has passed at the age of 77.
RIP Sir Terry
on 31-01-2016 18:38
on 31-01-2016 18:38
on 31-01-2016 18:57
on 31-01-2016 18:57
on 01-02-2016 13:17
on 01-02-2016 13:17
This was a feature of one of his radio programmes. Very poignant.
After this man died in a nursing home, the nurses find something that changed their lives.
Amongst the patients belongings, the memories of an entire life, they found this poem:
What do you see nurses? What do you see?
What are you thinking, when you look 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 a 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 10, 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 25, 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 that 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 once I 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!
Never assume that "the old grandpa" next to you doesn't see things any more. He lives and feels just like you. In every body beats a heart that remains young, even when the body decays. Remember the words of this old man, whenever you see an elderly people and treat them the way they deserve to be treated.
01-02-2016 13:25 - edited 01-02-2016 13:26
01-02-2016 13:25 - edited 01-02-2016 13:26
That ^^^^ was the poem (or a variation of the same) I copied and pinned up in my ward office. I made sure every new nurse took time to read it... Beautifully worded.
Veritas Numquam Perit
on 01-02-2016 14:11
on 01-02-2016 14:11
That's a lovely Pudsy tribute @Cleoriff
Get involved:
• New to the community? This is how you get help.
• Want to know who we are? Come and say hi to us.
• Want to have a chat? Drop me a direct message.
on 01-02-2016 14:23
on 01-02-2016 14:23
@Toby wrote:That's a lovely Pudsy tribute @Cleoriff
It is @Toby
It was drawn by Bob Moran who is a political cartoonist for the Telegraph. He is in his 20's and described by his colleagues as 'annoyingly young and unnecessarily tall'....:smileywink:
A fitting tribute. It is now all over the internet.
Veritas Numquam Perit