go gentle into that good night
My grandfather's dying. It's been happening slowly for the last few years, his Parkinson's has made him pretty immobile, despite his clarity of mind. He can't really read, or do crosswords, so he's reduced to watching TV most of the day. My mother bemoans the fact that such an intelligent man is reduced to this. So do I.
He's led a full life, travelled extensively in his late teens, working as crew on passenger liners to Asia from Vancouver. He saw China, the Philippinnes, Hong Kong when most of us today are still finishing high school. He worked himself through med school at a pharmacy, losing most of his hair in the process, until the owner gave him a scholarship that he paid off by continuing to work there once he'd finished his education. He worked as a doctor in logging camps in rural B.C. (I think) if I remember right he was up north in Haida Gwaii, or Bella Coola or something. He served as a doctor in England during WWII, and returned to Canada to pursue psychiatry, eventually establishing a private practice in Vancouver. I'm pretty sure these details are correct, but I get history mixed up in my head. In any case, this experienced man has just been diagnosed with prostate cancer.
Perhaps it's for the best, though. A full life behind him, and not much to look forward to, he seems prepared to go. I just hope it's not painful, and I hope I'm back home, able to be with him when it comes time.