Terri Schiavo Is Dead

The J.G. was never sure what she thought about this case, but she does think that it was a terrible thing such a terrible matter was so publicized. She sees both sides, and doesn't think that this matter should be further discussed, as it was a terribly private matter, to be discussed purely by the Schiavo and Schindler families. She wishes to offer her sincere condolences and will say no more regarding this particular case out of respect for the privacy of these families, who have been unfairly exploited.

But it does raise a question for anyone who thinks deeply about anything. Life and death. What are they, really? Are we reincarnated, or do we go to somewhere like Heaven, the Summerland, or Paradise? As a Wiccan, I believe in reincarnation, then the Summerland, or Heaven, but I'm not sure how one defines life. What is a life worth living? Can a "persistent vegatative state" be classified as, indeed, a life?

Erik lead a life that, by some, would not have been classified as worth living, and yet he lived it. He may not have enjoyed himself, but I do think that if one of us walked up to him and demanded, "Erik, would you rather not have lived, or would you rather have died at some point, speaking in retrospect?" That he would answer that he would rather have lived it. He had Nadir, Christine, Giovanni, Reza, Ayesha. . .and parts of his life were, if not perfect, things that he would rather have gone with than without.

But Erik was able to move, to laugh, to cry, to speak. What is a life worth living? A life where one is able to take action, does that define a life worth living? Can one have a life that is not worth living, where one still retains one's full physical ability? A life worth living is, I have come to a conclusion, a personal choice.

For myself, a life worth living would be a life in which I could do things for myself or others. I have to be able to take action. The only reasons I have ever feared death would be for the pain that might come before it, and for being bored afterwards. The only life not worth living for me would be a totally passive life that I could do nothing in, but would still be concious. Pure torture for me, torture.

The only solution in any of these cases is to write a living will, in my opinion, and that is that.

(Yes, of course I'm deep, just don't tell anyone.)

I remain, gentlemen, your faithful and obedient servant,

J.G.