1st, I'm incredibly sad to hear about the Pope. I'm not a religious person- now, I did not say I was not a spiritual person, but I'm not big into organized religion- but even I realize the contributions that he made to the world in the last 26 years. I saw the Pope years ago, when he visited St. Louis. I'm not sure of the year, but it was in the late 80's (since I could drive and he had the bullet-proof glass around him). I do remember the excitement of the crowd, the buzz that was in the air. And then his car came around the corner and there was this hush, almost like the calm in the eye of the storm. He looked smaller than I expected, but regal in a way, also happy. He had- now I know this is going to sound dorky- a light around him and he looked very happy. It was an experience that I'm glad I had, glad that I made time for in my teen-age existence.
2nd, I'm very relieved that Terri Schiavo is at peace now. Everytime I heard or read something about it, I just wanted to scream. At her parents, at the politicians who think they know something about which they know nothing, at the media, who has turned this woman's life and suffering into a circus. So unfair. Just my opinion, but I feel that some of why her parents fought so hard was to get back at her husband for going on with his life. But do you really think that if Terri loved her husband, she would have wanted him to be alone for the rest of his life? I don't think so. If my DH was left without me, I'd want him to find love again... After a few dozen years, of course. =)
One of the best things I've read about this was on a blog at here: http://journals.aol.com/englishqueen1202/ImJustaWomaninSearchofDefinition/
(I'm not sure if I could get in trouble for linking that, but I doubt it since noone else reads this!)
It's one of the most moving things I've read pertaining to this story. It made me realize that the reason I get so angry about this 'story' (which I hate to call it that because it is real people), is because I identify with it.
In, 1998, on my 29th birthday, my Dad was diagnosed with multiple myeloma, a cancer of the blood cells that affects... well, everything, but it starts with the bones. Dad had cracked his shoulder blade working and it wouldn't heal. It was a long process to come up with a diagnosis, so while there was horror at what it was, there was some relief that we knew what we had to fight.
I can't go into too many details about the next 18 months, partially because it's all still a blur, and partially because I have to work in the morning, but after many rounds of chemo and radiation, Dad agreed to do an experimental procedure. They took the bad bone marrow out, cleaned it up and put it back in. The problem was that they had to take Dad all the way to nothing on his white blood count or the antibodies would reject the 'new' marrow. We all knew it was risky, but my Dad was the kind of guy who would give you the shirt off his back, so if he had a chance to help someone else, he was going to do it.
So, to make a long story short, 3 weeks later, he's still hooked up to a ventilator and the doctors don't think that he'll ever breathe on his own again. I can't even begin to describe the pain we went thru. My step mom, who is one of the bravest people I know, and I were both basket cases. Dad helped us, though, because he had a living will. And we had talked about every situation. We knew that he didn't want to be kept alive artificially, if there was no chance of him getting off the machines on his own, we were to take him off of them.
My Daddy was one of the most incredible, lovable, full of life, no-nonsense people you would have ever wanted to know. And keeping him hooked to all those tubes and machines against his will was like denying he was the person he was. He gave me so much, in character and values and morals and fun and zest for life, that I was not going to be the person to deny him his desire to die with what he felt was dignity.
So, to the people who disagree with me about whether Terri's husband did the right thing, I don't care what you think. Until you have watched someone you love suffer like he has, I don't think you can judge him... or me.
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