The Legend of the “Cranky Old Man”

Sophie Bebeau

Written by Sophie Bebeau on Mon Oct 17 2022.

The Legend of the “Cranky Old Man”

If you’re a caregiver or nurse, you may have stumbled across the poem “Cranky Old Man” at some point. This is a poem that emotionally describes the thoughts of an elderly man at the end of his life and has been shared widely over the years, touching both young and old alike.

Of course, like any good legend, the “Cranky Old Man” comes with an air of mystery. Nobody knows quite where this poem originated, but we were able to trace it as far back as a Facebook post shared in November of 2012. The poem begins with a tale of an old man who dies in a nursing home. When the nurses begin to clear away his belongings, they find his poem and are so moved by it they begin sharing it widely. The rest is history!

Cranky Old Man

What do you see nurses? . . .What do you see?

What are you thinking . . .when you're looking 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 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 is 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. It's jest to make old age . . .look like a fool. The body, it crumbles . . .grace and vigour, depart. There is now a stone . . .where I once 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!!

But the story of the “cranky old man” didn’t start with this anonymous poet. In fact, the original cranky old man was actually a cranky old woman!

In 1966, Phyllis McCormack, a nurse working in Scotland, wrote the poem “Crabbit,” which means “grumpy” in Scots. McCormack wrote the poem for her hospital newsletter after reflecting on the lives of some of her patients. The poem was also published again in 1972 in the Nursing Mirror. The following year, the poem received an even wider audience after being published in Chris Searle’s poetry anthology Elders but without giving McCormack credit.

Because McCormack was not credited as the author, the poem took on a life of its own, and a new legend was born. The most popular version of the legend mirrors that of the “Cranky Old Man” with nurses packing up the belongings of an elderly nursing home resident who has passed away and finding her poem.

The poem also goes by various other titles like “Look Closer,” “Look Closer Nurse,” and “Open Your Eyes,” among others. 

Crabbit

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.

The legend lives on.

Just like legends of old, the “cranky old man” (and woman) has taken on a life of its own, being passed from one person to the next and shared across the internet.

These poems speak to us because they highlight the often invisible world of the elderly, who may feel forgotten, pushed aside, and alone with only the memories of their lives to keep them company. They remind us that we are all on the same journey of life, and we all need care and attention, even when we become “cranky” old men and women ourselves.

Share these poems with the caregivers in your life and help keep the legend alive!

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Sophie Bebeau
Sophie Bebeau

Sophie Bebeau is a writer, graphic designer, poet, and multidisciplinary artist living in Green Bay, Wisconsin. When she’s not writing or making things for the internet, she can be found cross-stitching, writing poetry, and snuggling on the couch with a cup of tea and her husband, son, and dog, Buttercup.