Monday, March 21, 2005


I would like to take a moment and write about Terri Schiavo.

I have been thinking a lot about the delicate balance between spousal privilege and parental love. I have been thinking a lot about what constitutes "living." I have been angered by lawyers and judges and doctors, and really am pissed off at the whole process that surrounds her existence right now.

Existence, not life.

Personally, I think it sucks that she didn't have anything in writing stating what she wanted done with her life. Her husband states he has only been trying to do what she initially would have wanted done 15 years ago. I think her parents need to let go and let her go.


I think it is criminal the manner in which this is being done. Murderers who are sentenced to death get a shot in the arm and they go to sleep.

My dog got better, more humane treatment when we put her down.

Starvation and dehydration over the course of a week is not humane. It is painful. It is torture. People are upset about how detainees at Gitmo are being treated while this woman, who can breathe on her own even if she is in a persistent vegetative state is tortured. This American citizen who deserves to die with dignity or live in comfort until she sheds the mortal coil herself.

That, my friends, is the thing that pisses me off the most.

And it's sad.

It is truly, totally sad that someone ends up in this position. Her wishes cannot be told. Her husband claims she would want to die. Her parents claim she would want to live. He is a shady character, and her parents are crazy. But the fact that Congress is involved, and Tom DeLay is shooting off his mouth, and this person and that person are up in arms...

And this is the third time they've done this to her...

She deserves to either be released to her parents and they can pay for her care until she finally dies... or she should be gently released from her torment with a shot in the arm and a room full of those who love her and were blessed by her life even during the 15 years that have passed with her in her own special place.

She does not deserve to be dehydrated and starved to her demise. God, that just sucks so badly. I don't think what is happening to her is fair. And I'm glad I watch from afar.

So -- this brings me here. Doug and I have discussed this. And we'll get it all written down on paper. And none of our extended families better step in the way and attempt to do contrary. We both want to die if, God forbid it a thousand times, we find our bodies continuing without our minds.

No feeding tubes. No breathing machines. No heroic measures. No gargantuan efforts. Death is a part of life. And if we are halfway there, let us continue our journey without Congress stepping in.


You bear witness to this fact. Keep it in mind.

This is such a damn cheery subject, eh? I'll close with Bruce Cockburn. This song comes to mind whenever I lose a close friend... whenever someone dies. And it is how I want to be remembered when I pass away... it is the circumstance with which I wish to be surrounded.

Make me a bed of fond memories.
Make me to lie down with a smile.
Everything that rises, afterward falls.
And all that die have first to live.

As morning becomes night.
As night turns to day --
Everything changes.

Joy will find a way.
Joy will find a way.

Terri -- may you have that bed of fond memories. You deserve as much.

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