An Analysis of Don't Go Gentle Into That Good NightThe first time I read Dylan Thomas's words to his dying father, and I screamed that I completely agreed with the Thomas' feelings. How right he was, I thought, to ask to fight to the end. That's how I would be when my time came, and that's how everyone should be. I've had a few years to think about it. Today, fire and anger have less appeal and I find myself impatient with the "Give 'em Hell!" crowd. His bellicose attitude probably helped his son Tommaso. The psychotherapist in me thinks, "This is one way to avoid feeling the pain of loss: focus on how the person you're losing should behave." And if we refuse to accept the death of our parents, we may, like Woody Allen, harbor the secret and insidious desire that, even if "everyone dies, I hope they make an exception in my case." But how did Father Thomas feel? Speaking of which? We are not privy to this knowledge. My father died unexpectedly in his sleep when I was nine. Part of me must have felt angry and betrayed, but at nine years old I couldn't express my pain, let alone anger. I will never know how I felt about him. Since then I have experienced the deaths of my eighty-year-old grandmother, my seventy-year-old mother, middle-aged friends, colleagues and teachers, and young clients cruelly affected by AIDS and cancer. . Most of the time I desperately wanted the person to live and not die, but I became very careful not to add my own needs to the burden of the dying person, offering only loving, unconditional support. I have come to believe that the affirmation of life is not incongruent with the acceptance of its inevitable end; that... the medium of paper... and the loss that inspires us. He transformed his tragic circumstances by going gently. Is longevity all we aspire to? Do we admire a rose less because it will not live as long as an oak? The prayer of Alcoholics Anonymous asks for the courage to change what can be changed, the serenity to accept what cannot be changed, and the wisdom to know the difference. Acquiring that wisdom is surely one of our most worthy and important goals. Reconciling our appreciation for hair dye, cosmetic surgery, fitness, hip replacements, contact lenses, etc., with respect for age - and ultimately death - is essential to peace of mind. I can, I believe, love life, work tirelessly to find cures and alleviate suffering, and wear lipstick, while recognizing the truth and beauty of the Buddha's words: "Everything that has a beginning has an end. Make peace with this and everything will be OK."