Man Died Alone In An Old Age Home. What He Left Behind Brought Tears To Everyone’S Eyes
It seemed like a usual nursing home with usual patients. However, in that dull space somewhere there was a man who was beautifully scripting about his life during his last days in a form of heart-touching poem. Mak Filiser, 86, died in the geriatric ward of a nursing home and since he had no visitors, the nurses believed that he left nothing behind of any real value.
But the day a nurse came to clean out Mak’s room after he passed on, everything changed. One of the nurses noticed something. It was a poem that Mak had written. She proceeded to read it and was so floored by his words that she ended up making copies of it and sharing with every employee at the nursing home.
In today’s world when children are leaving their parents at old age homes, this should be an eye opener. Our parents and grandparents raise us, care for us, and love us and then one day we forget all about them. The poem is entitled; “Cranky Old Man” and it no doubt give us some very valuable lessons. Take a look…
Cranky Old Man By Mak Filiser
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 vigor, depart.
There is now a stone…where I once had a heart.
But inside this old carcass a young man still dwells,