My heart goes out to the Terri's family and the entire world
I realize that in my previous post, one important fact was said, but may have been lost: My heart goes out to Terri and her family. Today that is felt more than any other day.
I had heard Terri was raised Lutheran. I was also raised Lutheran. My extended family actually owns a funeral home, so I've been to more Lutheran funerals than I can count. Even more so, I can't possibly remember how many times I've heard the phrase "She's in a better place now." Indeed, though her mind was dead, her soul is alive. And she is in a better place now.
My own grandmother passed away this last year. The comparison isn't the same. She was 98, and lived a very full life. Still, it was an incredibly hard experience for me. The hardest thing was remember the way she used to be. She was so alive and vibrant. In the last few years, she had days where she couldn't remember anyone. I was so incredibly honored that in a way I got to say good bye. I was visiting for a cousin's wedding, and I spent about an hour and a half with her. She was alert and remembered us, and we had a great chat. I had no idea it would be the last time I would see her alive, but I value that time so incredibly much.
At her funeral, someone was playing the piano. I just lost it. When she was younger, we used to play the piano together. It flooded back to me the way she used to be. And I bawled like a baby.
In the last few years, I had realized her time was nearer. The signs were subtler, unable to care for herself, a lack of mobility, losing her sight, being admitted to a home, one by one. But when she died, I still mourned God had taken a wonderful woman from this planet. I didn't want to see her go. To have one more chat, one more time at the piano, one more time staying up way too late watching TV. But I lost that chance years ago. But still, I knew she was in a better place, and I know she looked down on me from heaven. I still talk to her, to have another chat, to play the piano, and to have one more time staying up too late watching TV.
Terri didn't have it that way. No one can say why. It happened with a sudden event. Maybe they lost Terri 15 years ago. Mourn that. And still talk to her every chance you get.
It saddens me that it became so political. Politics should have never had anything to do with it. It is my hope that that kind of spectacle goes with Terri as well. Dying is the most personal of processes. It's why they have hospices, and people want to die in their homes instead of in a hospital, and to die with dignity. It's sad it had to play on the national stage, like a Jerry Springer show, like something so personal and never meant to be shown, suddenly played before the nation and the world, something to be latched onto for ratings and political gain.
It saddens me that it ripped a family and a nation apart. A family should be together and there for each other. I understand differences in beliefs and feelings and interpretations of what's best for her in this strenuous time that rip a family apart. It saddens me it had to rip a nation apart as well. It is my hope that Terri was comforted by her family, and by those around her.
I have no idea if Michael Shiavo made the right decision. Perhaps it was her time, perhaps it wasn't. But her suffering is now at an end. And I mourn her death all the same.
I had heard Terri was raised Lutheran. I was also raised Lutheran. My extended family actually owns a funeral home, so I've been to more Lutheran funerals than I can count. Even more so, I can't possibly remember how many times I've heard the phrase "She's in a better place now." Indeed, though her mind was dead, her soul is alive. And she is in a better place now.
My own grandmother passed away this last year. The comparison isn't the same. She was 98, and lived a very full life. Still, it was an incredibly hard experience for me. The hardest thing was remember the way she used to be. She was so alive and vibrant. In the last few years, she had days where she couldn't remember anyone. I was so incredibly honored that in a way I got to say good bye. I was visiting for a cousin's wedding, and I spent about an hour and a half with her. She was alert and remembered us, and we had a great chat. I had no idea it would be the last time I would see her alive, but I value that time so incredibly much.
At her funeral, someone was playing the piano. I just lost it. When she was younger, we used to play the piano together. It flooded back to me the way she used to be. And I bawled like a baby.
In the last few years, I had realized her time was nearer. The signs were subtler, unable to care for herself, a lack of mobility, losing her sight, being admitted to a home, one by one. But when she died, I still mourned God had taken a wonderful woman from this planet. I didn't want to see her go. To have one more chat, one more time at the piano, one more time staying up way too late watching TV. But I lost that chance years ago. But still, I knew she was in a better place, and I know she looked down on me from heaven. I still talk to her, to have another chat, to play the piano, and to have one more time staying up too late watching TV.
Terri didn't have it that way. No one can say why. It happened with a sudden event. Maybe they lost Terri 15 years ago. Mourn that. And still talk to her every chance you get.
It saddens me that it became so political. Politics should have never had anything to do with it. It is my hope that that kind of spectacle goes with Terri as well. Dying is the most personal of processes. It's why they have hospices, and people want to die in their homes instead of in a hospital, and to die with dignity. It's sad it had to play on the national stage, like a Jerry Springer show, like something so personal and never meant to be shown, suddenly played before the nation and the world, something to be latched onto for ratings and political gain.
It saddens me that it ripped a family and a nation apart. A family should be together and there for each other. I understand differences in beliefs and feelings and interpretations of what's best for her in this strenuous time that rip a family apart. It saddens me it had to rip a nation apart as well. It is my hope that Terri was comforted by her family, and by those around her.
I have no idea if Michael Shiavo made the right decision. Perhaps it was her time, perhaps it wasn't. But her suffering is now at an end. And I mourn her death all the same.
posted by Joe Carlin at 10:10 PM
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