December 16, 2015, Month from hell
I'll take a short break from noting the various horrors of the world at large, to take a note of my personal horror.
I lost my Dad earlier this month. Although he was no one's model of health, this was unexpected , and a shock nonetheless. To those of you who knew this, and who were most gracious in your condolences, prayers and wishes (and in a number of cases, food offerings), I am grateful, and I thank you. To the rest of you, let this be a cautionary tale: the people we love have this awful tendency of leaving us rather abruptly. It's just part of our reality; the best we can do is to try to live worthy lives and honor them both while they are with us and after they are gone... by living a life of love, and of real value: a lumine.
I leave you with the words of Dylan Thomas (who didn't get to live all that long himself):
Do not go gentle into that good night, Old age should burn and rave at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light.Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.