Grandpa Bill

My great grandfather, Grandpa Bill, also had ms.  From what I remember about his symptoms, I am very much like he was.  He lived to be eighty two years of age.  In a year and a half, I will be half of that, and medical science says that they are on the verge of adding decades to that. 

 


Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night




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 that 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.


Dylan Thomas