Appreciating Old Guys

Lets try that again.  I do like Do Not Go Softly Into That Good Night by Dylan Thomas and here is another strangely inspirational poem called The Quitter by Robert Service

The Quitter

When you're lost in the Wild, and you're scared as a child,
    And Death looks you bang in the eye,
And you're sore as a boil, it's according to Hoyle
    To cock your revolver and . . . die.
But the Code of a Man says: "Fight all you can,"
    And self-dissolution is barred.
In hunger and woe, oh, it's easy to blow . . .
    It's the hell-served-for-breakfast that's hard.

"You're sick of the game!" Well, now, that's a shame.
    You're young and you're brave and you're bright.
"You've had a raw deal!" I know — but don't squeal,
    Buck up, do your damnedest, and fight.
It's the plugging away that will win you the day,
    So don't be a piker, old pard!
Just draw on your grit; it's so easy to quit:
    It's the keeping-your-chin-up that's hard.

It's easy to cry that you're beaten — and die;
    It's easy to crawfish and crawl;
But to fight and to fight when hope's out of sight —
    Why, that's the best game of them all!
And though you come out of each gruelling bout,
    All broken and beaten and scarred,
Just have one more try — it's dead easy to die,
    It's the keeping-on-living that's hard.

I'd like to show solidarity with you John, but I'm only in my seventies. 

On a more serious note ... I was my mom's only child, and it took a while figuring out how to properly honor her at her funeral.  The thing that did it for me was Dylan Thomas's Do not go gentle into that good night.  Well John, do not go gentle into that good night, and thanks for the OP.

Maybe not 'gentle,' but  when my time comes I hope I go with some grace.

Can I rage gracefully?

I have to post this too - I first read it in the Order of Service at the funeral of a dear old neighbour - author unknown.

A PRAYER FOR LATER YEARS

Lord, thou knowest that I am growing older. Keep me from becoming too talkative,
and particularly keep me from falling into the tiresome habit of expressing an opinion
on every subject.Release me from the craving to straighten out everybody’s affairs. 
Keep my mind free from the recital of endless details. Give me  wings too get to the point.


Give me the grace, dear Lord, to listen to others describe their aches and pains.
Help me to endure the boredom with patience and keep my lips sealed, for my own 
aches and pains are increasing in number and intensity, and the pleasure of discussing 
them is becoming sweeter as the years go by.

Teach me the glorious lesson that, occasionally, I might be mistaken. Keep me reasonably
sweet. I do not wish to be a saint (saints are so hard to live with), but a sour old person 
is the work of the devil.

Make me thoughtful, but not moody; helpful, but not pushy; independent; yet able to accept
with graciousness favors that others wish to bestow on me.

Free me of the notion that simply because I have lived a long time, I am wiser than those who
 have not lived so long.

If I do not approve of some of the changes that have taken  place in recent years, give me the 
wisdom to keep my mouth shut.

Lord knows that when the end comes, I would like to have a friend or two left.

I'd like to show solidarity with you John, but I'm only in my seventies. 

On a more serious note ... I was my mom's only child, and it took a while figuring out how to properly honor her at her funeral.  The thing that did it for me was Dylan Thomas's Do not go gentle into that good night.  Well John, do not go gentle into that good night, and thanks for the OP.

Maybe not 'gentle,' but  when my time comes I hope I go with some grace.

Can I rage gracefully?

I certainly think and hope so.

My wife now tells me that when I am too old to wet shave any more - and the day is slowly approaching because I have a progressive dominant arm tremor - I can use a razor with no blade in it, like a little kid pretending, along with regular lather, aftershave, and cologne. She's very funny.

My wife now tells me that when I am too old to wet shave any more - and the day is slowly approaching because I have a progressive dominant arm tremor - I can use a razor with no blade in it, like a little kid pretending, along with regular lather, aftershave, and cologne. She's very funny.

Did she offer to perform the service for you? Wives are wonderful 

My wife now tells me that when I am too old to wet shave any more - and the day is slowly approaching because I have a progressive dominant arm tremor - I can use a razor with no blade in it, like a little kid pretending, along with regular lather, aftershave, and cologne. She's very funny.

Did she offer to perform the service for you? Wives are wonderful 

Marko's post of THE QUITTER brought to mind Invictus, which was popularized in the 2009 film about Nelson Mandela. The text is available at the link, so I won't repeat it here.   There is also a brief, but inspiring story about William Ernest Henley and the misfortunes that lead him to write[font=Tahoma, Verdana, Arial, sans-serif] Invictus[/font].  Suffice it to say that[font=Tahoma, Verdana, Arial, sans-serif] Invictus [/font]speaks to the sort of brave and stoic spirit that is often sadly well suited to the trials of old age.  

Reminds me of something I saw that said "Beware of old men in professions where men die young."