Years ago, while watching a funny but low brow comedy movie, Back to School starring Rodney Dangerfield, I was confronted with what would become one of my favorite poems. I say confronted instead of introduced because the message of the skillfully crafted lines really did hit me. The poem is, Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night by Dylan Thomas (the same poet that Robert Zimmerman took his stage last name from—yes, Bob Dylan). “Rage against the dying of the light became an anthem with me. In my younger days, it seemed to apply more to the dying of the light of truth than of life itself. That is starting to change, however.
It was believed that Dylan Thomas wrote the poem for his failing father in 1947, though his father did not die until shortly before Christmas of 1952 (very close to the day I was born in fact). Dylan followed his father in death only the following year. Wow! However, I have since seen people I love age and die. Currently my siblings and I are watching over my father as he goes through the slow fade of dementia. I would beg him to rage, but in his condition, he would not comprehend the concept.
The meaning of the poem is changing for me, not because of my father or others that are passing, or have passed, however. It is changing because, I must now face the fact that I, myself, am aging. I remember being young and seeing people at my current age of 64 and thinking that they were ancient. As a very small child, my grandparents, only in their fifties at the time, seemed beyond old. But, now they are gone, my mother is gone, my father is fading,, and I look in the mirror at a man much older than I could have ever comprehended. The light seems to be on the verge of dying. You may say that I’m a bit premature, but there are reasons for my feelings. I retired last year. It was a bit earlier than I had planned, but it was time. Just that word, “retired” has the tendency to make a person feel older. I don’t know why.
Along with the retirement came a few other “aging” things to help drive a few more nails in the coffin, as it were. I have developed hereditary knee issues and had to have one replaced. It works great, now, but it took most of a year to fully recover. That coupled with the preceding years of limited activity due to the knee's painful deterioration, and along with some other activity limiting things in my life, have left me totally and completely out of shape, physically. I also have the normal aging body things going on. Yes, I hurt in places I didn’t used to hurt and don’t want to hurt. My right knee is on it’s way out…thanks, but no thanks. That shoulder I separated in a bicycle accident as a child rears it’s ugly head at times. A few joints just hurt for no other reason than the fact that they want to hurt. All of this is to say that it is hard to motivate myself into moving either for the reason of getting back into shape, to do things around the house and yard, or even to do the woodworking and mechanical projects that I love to do for a hobby. And, of course, there’s that unwanted houseguest of depression that comes to visit now and then, making it hard to get up and move.
So, I’m 64, retired, and out of shape. That means, if I live to the natural age length of my predecessors, I have maybe 20 years left. That bugs me, because the last 20 years went by in a flash! I know a lot happened, but it seems, in reflection, that it just flew by. Will the next 20 go even faster? Probably, if the reflections of the “ ancient” ones before me are to be believed. I’m not liking the sound of that. It’s been getting me down as of late…almost to the point of immobility. Honestly it has been an emotionally difficult year and I feel like I’m on the downhill side or slide of my life.
But…and it’s a big but… I just recently heard that poem again. “Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage against the dying of the light!” And with the coming of spring to the tundra, the words take hold and remind me that it is my choice to give up or not. I am older. I am a bit arthritic. I have some developing eyesight issues. I am fat and out of shape. But! I can still choose to not go gentle into any night that is ahead of me, good, bad or otherwise. I still have dreams and abilities and I can and will rage until my last breath against the dying of this light…my light.
Yeah, I’m ready to rage.
