Against Dylan Thomas

[poliphilo]

Actually I disagree with Dylan Thomas. Old people who rage against the dying of the light are a pain. Especially if it's not so much raging as whining. When a person past eighty goes all "why me?" about their failing health my over-riding feeling is that they're letting the side down. Come on, you old bastard, this is part of the test. What is required of you now is dignity. You knew it was coming, you've had plenty of time to prepare for it, so pull yourself together and set us a good example. 

Comments

[sorenr.livejournal.com]

In a way I agree with you. At some point Death has to be embraced, however scary it may be. My grandfather when he was on his deathbed was completely resigned that he would die soon, yet he was so scared of it that he could not bear not to hold my grandmother's hand. Whenever she had to leave her chair by his bedside to go to the loo or to sleep, he would be fidgeting around in his semi-conscious state, and the moment she returned he would calm down again. He raged not against the dying of the light, but against the idea of facing it without his wife. I still hold that to be the most beautiful love story I have ever heard or be-witnessed.

On the other hand. My dad is 62. He has cancer. He breathes through a hole in his throat and eats through a tube that goes through his abdomen to his stomach. I want him to rage. Rage like nothing ever seen before. He needs to rage; WE need him to rage. I need him to rage against the dying of the light.

Is he an old man? By appearances, yes. He has looked older than his years for a long time, mainly because of too much alcohol and tobacco. He has been retired for the past 15+ years and he really does seem to be an old man, even to me. Is he old enough to die, though? Certainly not! My mother needs him, my nephews and niece need him. I need him, even though we have never been close.

Sorry for getting emotional on your journal, but I guess the "dying of the light" theme just triggered something in me.

I agree with your entry, though; old age should NOT burn and rage at close of day.

[poliphilo.livejournal.com]

As steepholm says, "each death is...unique". There's no single way of dying well. But there are some things- whining, complaining- that are never right. One should aim for dignity, for grace. One should try to edify.

Your grandfather died in such a way.

Our culture is fascinated by death, but we don't talk nearly enough about how to do it. Death is always something that happens to the other fellow.

[sorenr.livejournal.com]

Death, he scares me not.
Safely I wander the path of Life.
If I am there, then he is not.
And if he's there, then I am not.

I can't remember which Danish poet wrote this (only better in the original), but it pretty much sums up my emotions about Death. I'm not afraid of Death, though I'm quite terrified of dying, which is another matter all-together.

I was there when my grandfather died. It was beautiful. Suddenly the struggling sound of his rasping lungs stopped and there was quiet. Peace and quiet. He, as the ancients might have said, died well. If only we could all go like that; in due time and surrounded by our family and friends. Under such circumstances I believe I too could die well. I pity those who have to pass on by themselves, though; that must be a terribly lonesome business.

[poliphilo.livejournal.com]

I like the poem.

I have been at deathbeds- though not of anyone I was close to. The approach to death can be distressing- but not- in my experience- the actual act of dying. I'm not afraid of death. Like Peter Pan I think of it as an "awfully big adventure".