Grave (wo)men, near death, who see with blinding sight

*photo used without permission off  of wikipedia site

I'm not sure...well I am sure why but it makes no sense but when I think of Pearl Harbor I think of Jamaica.  I lived in Jamaica when I saw the movie "Tora Tora Tora" .  I remember watching this show vividly....I don't think I cared much for history before then and it really helped me to see what had happened.  December 7th we remember those who suffered and were lost.   Some of us were posting about Remembering this day on Facebook. 

Facebook is a means of social media where you can let your friends, your family, even people you haven't actually MET what YOUR Cause is.  So the other day someone starts posting on Facebook to post a cartoon character to show your solidarity against Child Abuse...next thing you know someone is saying that pedophile's are pushing this...and now I see the latest supposedly donations to child abuse organizations increased because of this. 


Then another cause popped up...Standing up for the Unemployed...I'm one of those so I'm definitely wanting to stand up for that. 

The last 'Cause' today was a sad one...Elizabeth Edwards passed today.  One of the most admirable women I've even seen grace the political scene.  She fought the good fight but in the end, while she accepted her fate but did not go out quietly....in honor of this beautiful woman I want to post a poem that we should remember when we think of Elizabeth because she was a woman who chose to live in the face of death. I think you'll know the author

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.

Sweet Dreams Elizabeth