Written by Sophie Bebeau on Mon Oct 17 2022.
If you're a caregiver or nurse, you've likely encountered the profoundly moving poem known as "Cranky Old Man." Its heartfelt words resonate deeply, offering a poignant glimpse into the inner world of an elderly person and challenging us to look beyond outward appearances.
For years, this powerful poem circulated widely, often shared anonymously across social media and within care communities, carrying with it a compelling, yet mysterious, origin story. The legend often suggested it was found among the belongings of a recently deceased nursing home resident, deeply affecting the nurses who discovered it.
What many don't realize is that behind the "Cranky Old Man" lies an even older, equally impactful original: "Crabbit," penned by a compassionate Scottish nurse over half a century ago. Both versions share the same timeless message, urging us to look past the superficial and truly see the person within.
As you read the 'Cranky Old Man,' consider how easily we might make assumptions based on outward appearances, and how profoundly this poem asks us to see the person within:
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!!
The "Cranky Old Man" story actually started with a woman! In 1966, Scottish nurse Phyllis McCormack wrote "Crabbit" (meaning "grumpy") for her hospital newsletter. It was later published in a poetry anthology in 1973 without her credit, allowing the poem to take on a life of its own.
This led to the widespread legend mirroring the "Cranky Old Man" story: nurses finding the poem among a deceased resident's belongings. Also known as "Look Closer" or "Open Your Eyes," this poem, like its male counterpart, powerfully conveys the universal desire to be seen and valued for a lifetime of experiences beneath the surface.
Now, discover the original 'Crabbit' (meaning 'grumpy' in Scots), written by nurse Phyllis McCormack. Notice the raw honesty and timeless plea that inspired its male counterpart:
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.
Phyllis McCormack's original 'Crabbit' is a testament to her profound empathy. It’s a timeless call for recognition, reminding all caregivers of the importance of person-centered care and truly connecting with those they serve.
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!
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.
