so long, dad

Robert Ivan McKenna - Actor, writer, and loads of other things
October 4, 1942 - January 29, 2008

I'm so very sorry, but am so glad you're not hurting anymore.

You made your own choices, stuck by what you wanted, called the shots, and fought with every ounce of strength you had. Dylan Thomas would've been proud. You did not go gentle, and you raged right through to the end.

I'll miss you.

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.