In Memory of
Dimira "Creole - Valente" Marquart

When an old lady died in the geriatric ward of a small hospital near Dundee, Scotland, it was felt that she had nothing left of any value. Later, when the nurses were going through her 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 Ireland. The old lady's sole bequest to posterity has since appeared in the Christmas edition of the News Magazine of the North Ireland Association for Mental Health. A slide presentation has also been made based on her simple, but eloquent, poem. And this little old Scottish lady, with nothing left to give to the world, is now the Author of the "anonymous" poem winging across the Internet. Goes to show that we all leave "SOME footprints in time". And here is the poem!

AN OLD LADIES POEM

What do you see, nurses, what do you see? What are you thinking, when you're looking at me?

A crabby old woman, not very wise? Uncertain of habit, with faraway 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, 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 girl of sixteen, with wings on her feet. Dreaming that soon, now a lover she'll meet.

A bride 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 woman 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 man'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 husband is 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 woman, 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 girl 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 to fast. And accept the stark fact, that nothing can last.

So open your eyes, nurses, open and see. Not a crabby old woman; look closer...see ME!!

Remember this poem when you next meet an old person who you might brush aside without looking at the young soul within. We will one day be there, too! This is something we all need to remember.

This poem means a lot to me and thank you so much Linda for sending it to me. My Mother-In-Law was in a nursing home for two years before she passed away and this is how she seen herself. The picture above is of her when she was a young girl. When we showed her the picture she would smile and say "me" and point to herself. When we showed her one of how she looked at the present time she would say "no" not me, who is it, or would call her Mother. My husband and his brother became her brothers Charlie and George who had passed away years ago. I became her sister Lucy who also passed away years ago. After all the residents were put to bed at night the nurses said she would fill the halls with music singing in Italian. They said it was eerie at times but just beautiful and it quieted the rest of the patients down for the night. She would also sing during a meal before they all ate. If you asked her what the name of the song was, she would just give you a smile and continue on. With Dementia we had no way of knowing what was really going through her mind and felt so terrible she didn't know who we were. But now I understand in her mind she was happy again finally. For she had reverted back to when she was young to deal with her sickness. But after a while there was just no response from her and the sickness had taken over forever. But I pray as I sat and held her hand and talked to her all night the night before she passed early the next morning on my birthday that deep down in her heart she knew I was there, and who I was, and she passed into Heaven with Jesus knowing that I loved her very much.

To Mom with much love! Judy

The song I have chose "The Deep" by Geoff as it reminds me of how all things at the end were buried deep within her mind as she slipped away.