Dylan Thomas wrote the poem “Do not go gentle into that good night,” but
it is worth noting that he wasn’t writing about himself. He planned to
go into that good night as quickly as possible and managed it at age
39. He was writing about his father who died at age 75 or 76.
I was interested in Thomas when I as back in my 20s and 30s. Raging at
the dying of the light seemed the sensible thing to do. We back then
had a lot of rage, but did poor old David John Thomas (1876–1952) when
he was in his mid-70s rage as his son Dylan suggested? I read some
biographies of Dylan years ago but can’t remember how his father died.
I recall quite well how Dylan died. He literally drank himself to
death. Does one do that in a fit of rage or is self-indulgence more to
blame?
Dylan in his poem urging his father to resist death, presumably because
he loved his father, didn’t want to lose him, and wanted him to hang
onto life as long as possible. He didn’t say in his poem “do it for me,
dad,” but that is implied by what we know. But how unreasonable and
inconsistent is it to on the one hand urge his father to resist death
for the sake of his son, while he personally drank himself to death?
Perhaps he didn’t intend to drink himself to death. As someone who did
some heavy drinking in his youth, gave it up, and is now a
fairly-healthy 80, I’m not the best judge of someone who couldn’t give
it up, but I judge him nonetheless, especially now that Susan has
decided not to rage against the dying of the light.
Years ago Susan lost a lot of blood and was close to death. I literally
carried her to the ER at Hoag Hospital in Newport Beach. I recall her
telling me on a gurney that she was looking forward to being with the
Lord. I was mad at her. I didn’t want her to do that. I wanted her to
stay with me. Later after a transfusion I told her my feelings and she
never said that again until recently. Back then she had not yet turned
40, Dylan Thomas’ age, but now she has turned 70, very near the age of
Dylan Thomas’ father when he died. Back then I wanted her to rage at
any dying of the light, but now when she is 70 and I am ten years older,
and I have changed my mind. I was admittedly selfish back then, but now
I want what is best for her, and while I’ve played a potential struggle
in my mind where I exercise some anti-dying rage, it always involves a
lot more pain for her and surely at some point a person as old as Susan
or Dylan Thomas’s father has suffered enough.
I recall my own father, someone who did indeed rage against the dying of
the light and managed to live until age 78. He like Dylan was a heavy
drinker and drank almost his entire life. He was much healthier to
start with and so didn’t die early. After I got back from Korea, having
learned to drink, I spent a lot of time with him. He was in good shape
and wanted me to pretend I was his brother and not his son, for the sake
of some lady or ladies he was interested in. He was about 5' 11" and
185 pounds and in very good shape, but when he was close to the end and
had raged as much as possible, he was below 100 pounds and told his wife
of that time that he couldn’t struggle on any longer.
Susan when I saw her on Monday retained all her dignity. She didn’t
rage and wasn’t bowed down. She knew as I had to admit that if she were
to rage, something very much not in her nature, she would be bowed down
which in her case would resemble severe dementia. Thanks to modern
science she was given, temporarily, a clear enough mind to think about
the future. There was no hope of a liver or kidney transplant. There
was no hope of eliminating the duodenal blockage. A whole team of
specialists on the Loma Linda transplant team had determined those
things. Susan’s choice wasn’t between having these transplants and not
having them, it was between going to some half-way house, returning to
less and less clarity of mind, severer and severer dementia and the
indignity of being cared for in the most weakened of conditions or
letting them disconnect the artificial aids at Loma Linda, letting her
retain her clarity of mind and some dignity, letting her say good bye to
family and friends and know that she was doing that.
I know no one with a stronger faith than Susan. She isn’t worried about
what will happen to her after death. She knows she will be with the
Lord. The chaplain who came to pray with her on Monday was surprised.
Most Christians he said had faith but still had doubts, but he soon
realized she didn’t have any. She was more a blessing to him than he
was to her, but she said she like him and hoped he would come back and
pray with her again. She didn’t need him to bolster her faith. She
liked him and would welcome him back. She was not raging at the dying
of the light, she was blessing those around her even as the light died.
(awake in the middle of the night as I have been every night recently,
and perhaps thinking more of Dylan's wife who after he died wrote, /Left
over Life to Live)/
Lawrence
