Hope springs eternal doesn't it? Dad is still with us, although growing weaker each day. He has not eaten since Sunday, but he ate well then. My mom fed him, she came to see him at the hospital and he welcomed her with open arms. It was beautiful and heart breaking. She has been by his side since and I know that for me it's been healing. Something good did come out of dad's illness.
It's just a matter of time, I know that...but we all still keep looking at anything as a sign of hope, even though in reading all the literature provided by Hospice I know that he's following the natural path towards leaving this world.
But as I've said before, he's a fighter. He will 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 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
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