I will never give up on life

As my eyes water with tears for Terri Schiavo and I try to understand how this abomination could take place in America I wonder if there were any Germans in the 1930’s who shed any tears for the first victims of the holocaust to come. Those victims were just like Terri, helpless and without a voice. Were there any who realized that they had taken the dark path and that they would not like what awaited them at the end of that path? Did some of them realize that they were not God and that they did not have the right to pass judgment on the quality of anyone’s life? I’m sure that there many but their warnings and cries were like a fire in the sun, drowned out by the evolving culture of death. Sadly history is repeating itself.

What is the meaning of life? What is the ultimate truth? I do not know. I do not know if life is a gift from a benevolent omnipotent deity or if the gift of chance or happenstance. I do know that life is the most wonderful gift of all and I believe that we should cherish and fight for every last second of it. If there is a God that requires that we stand in judgment before him I cannot help but believe that one his considerations will be how we appreciated his great gift and the value we place on it.

As a Vietnam vet and a guy who spent much of his youth living on the edge, I have cheated death more than once. Death has been described as a predator that stalks us all of our lives. We can run from it and hide from it but ultimately it will run us down and make the kill. I have seen the moment when a life ended; when the eyes go dull the body goes completely limp and smelled the last breath. There is a flash but no light, a cold blast but no wind, and a scream with no sound. It taught me early on that life is something far greater than I will ever be able to understand and that I should cherish every moment of it.

A few years ago I had a profound experience with my father that cemented my belief that we should never give up on life. My father was a large strong man with a very high pain threshold and a laugh that came from the belly. His will to live was strong and for fifteen years he battled serious cancer. The years of chemotherapy and surgeries took there toll and his last stay in the hospital where much of his intestines were removed was extremely painful. The greatest and strongest man that I had ever known was reduced to a frail ghost of himself crying out in excruciating pain. When he and I were alone he took my hand and squeezed with all of the strength left in him and asked me to help him. We both had received the same training in the military and he knew that I could end his suffering in an instant and he begged me to do it. I told him that it was not in me, I could not do it, and that we should never give up on life.

As he cried out in rage and pain I did wonder if I had made a wrong decision. Would it be an act of love to end his suffering? After a time the pain subsided and he was released from the hospital. My doubts continued for a couple of weeks until one day when I visited him at home. His youngest grandson told him that he was hungry so dad gave him an apple. A few minutes later his grandson returned and handed him the apple stem. When he realized that the child had eaten everything except the stem he broke out into one of his famous belly laughs. It was that moment that I knew that I had made the right choice. A few minutes later he put his arm on my shoulder, pulled me close, kissed my check, and whispered “You were right son”. A few days later he passed away.

I will never forget that last laugh and I will never give up on life.