Today I had planned to blog with lots of projects i have been doing, but these will now have to wait. Instead today has been an emotional day for me, I ran my first 5K, and for once in my life i was proud of me, i shed a tear as i thought of dad , but i did it, and my confidence has rocket that I
achieve the race in September.
I would
also like to remind you of why i am running in September, and to take a moment to look at my blog header. I am running in memory of my Dad and raising money for the
MS Society. Already I have raised over £1000 through various fund raising events, the most successful being the Charity auction held at the
Scrapping Angels retreat in April. But every penny helps, and so I am asking you all if you can spare a penny to sponsor me, or just to donate to my
Just Giving Page. You can also send a chq just email me for details.
Now onto why i had to write this post;
I received this poem in an email today from a very close friend, at first i felt offended and upset as I lost my father in September to MS, but once i read abit more I knew the reason she sent this to me, my dad was this person....
My dad was the young man in a crippled body, but he was still a person..................Take a few minutes to read this poem, beware i cried!!
When an old man died in the geriatric ward of a small hospital near Tampa , Florida , 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 ............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.
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.
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
The best and most beautiful things of this world can't be seen or touched.They must be felt by the heart.
God Bless.
Anna xxx
Izzy's school was a riot of colour as they celebrated International week with a bang!!! 
the most horrendous Migraine!
the most horrendous Migraine!
Also July's Scrapping Angels kit has gone up for general sale!!!
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