Rage Against The Dying Of The Light

I'll be honest. I have never been a huge Farrah Fawcett fan. In fact, when I heard that she had a documentary showing her journey through cancer, I must admit it ticked me off a little. I mean, why should we care about this? Millions of average joes are diagnosed with and fight cancer on a daily basis. This whole "let me use my celebrity to put a 'face' on cancer" business just irritated me like a pebble in a shoe. The 'face' I put on cancer is that of my friend, Jenster. My grandfather. Li'l G's German oma back in Georgia. A hardcore Army wife. These are the real faces of real people that have been faced with cancer and kicked it square in the face and said, "Not today; not on my watch." Thanks anyhow, Farrah -- already have a meaningful association here without Hollywood attempting to create meaning here.

And then I watched her film, "Farrah's Story."

And then I felt like a jackass.

What I saw was not some blonde chickie who was famous in Hollywood. What I saw was a child of God, looking with eyes of bewilderment at life, at creation, and how death is not near as far away as many of us might think. I saw in her eyes fear, hope, caution, exhaustion, delight in simplicity, wonder. What I saw was a fellow human, trying to navigate her way in this sea of the uncertain human experience.

I was so touched. True, I really don't need to watch a movie to have an epiphany on the effects of a disease on a person, but in an age where we all drool like Pavlovian subjects at the mention of "reality television" or infidelity between Jon and Kate, this was reality. I believe the Discovery channel calls it "actuality." We do not need films like "Farrah's Story" to make cancer, alzheimers, or children with autism finally seem real to us; we need them to retain a sense of connection during very human experiences -- life, death, birth, love, grief, affliction -- all these things which God calls us to yoke alongside one another and experience in community.

I do not know if NBC will replay "Farrah's Story;" however, if it is rerun, do yourself a favor. Turn off the "Jon & Kate" episodes you DVRed and watch. It is a shining example of how one woman refuses to give up on herself, and those around her cannot help but love and support her and her tenacity. May we all go down fighting.

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.

--Dylan Thomas