February 25, 2024- The seat fairly screamed, in its emptiness. It has been occupied, at a weekly breakfast meeting, for nearly six years, by a true force of nature. It is unlikely that will continue to be the case. After a storied career in the military, age has caught up with the gentleman, and he must face the loss of his independence, at minimum. He may very well be going into that good night.
The Silent Generation, born in the midst of the Great Depression, and growing up in the harrowing uncertainty of World War II, has been anything but silent, seeing the changes in society-changes which must be as incomprehensible, to them, as the changes at the turn of the Twentieth Century were to the Gilded Age Generation. My friend regularly inveighed against both the emerging, often chaotic, claims of the Left and the efforts, to cling to power, of the wealthy on the Right. He wanted things to return to how they were, in the days of Eisenhower and Kennedy.
In his prime, and into his early eighties, he was a suave, sleek dancer. When the joints began to give way, and cardiopulmonary issues arose, he was dismayed, but kept doing what he could for himself- continuing to drive, attending weekly functions and winning at Bingo. Gradually, the help of steadfast friends kept him engaged in the activities that meant the most. Then the bottom began to fall out.
He will surely heed the plea of Dylan Thomas, and do his share of raging. In the end, like the great Bard's father, he will have to close his fierce eyes and still his thundering voice. He will, at journey's end, find himself in another realm of light. It may be tomorrow, or some time from now. I only pray that it will be gentle to him.
https://poets.org/poem/do-not-go-gentle-good-night
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