Letting Go: The Legacy of Terri Schiavo

Of all the words the immortal poet Dylan Thomas ever wrote, perhaps the only ones I find conflicting are his most famous:

Do not go gentle into that goodnight.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

The poet was lamenting the death of his father but it might have been a son or daughter. In another time and place, it might have been Terri Schiavo.

Who among us does not feel the profound grief of a parent losing a child? Whenever a child is taken from this mortal coil, it is in a sense a crime against the laws of nature, yet it is nature that so often administers the crime. It is right and proper to mourn. It is sometimes useful to rage against the dying of the light but it is neither useful nor proper to rage against those who are not rightly to blame for this tragedy.

As nature sometimes offends, so she also offers up the balm that will heal these wounds. Mourn, grieve, release the rage as you must, but then let go. Answer to the needs of the living and allow the dead to move on.

The cry of murder did not belong in this lament. It was the rage that spoke in place of wisdom for a sorrow of the soul. It was the rage that opened the wounds that tore a family apart. The rage will abate in time and the healing will begin. It is only natural and nature is more powerful than all our human emotions.

Yet what shall we make of our elected leaders who chose to fuel the fire rather than to comfort the heart? Shall we forgive even those whose greater purpose was to ease our suffering, not to feed the rage? What shall we make of our fire-chasing media who chose to stoke the flames and keep it raging with a promised fifteen minutes of fame?

Terri Schiavo is dead. Give your blessings and let her go.

In the weeks and months we have observed the Schiavo family tragedy, tens of thousands of mothers and fathers around the world have had to face the death of a child. Should we not feel for them all what we feel so deeply for the chosen few?

Let her go.

As I watched the bitter divide only grow wider in the hours after her death, I waited for the words of comfort that every man and woman who has lived long enough to know sorrow has come to expect in the hour of need. I thought I would wait in vain until the Monsignor Tom Hartman stepped forward and delivered the words that should have come from all people of faith, the words that initiate the healing process: Death is not the end.

Where is Terri Schiavo today? She is in a better place. Surely, she is in a better place.

Perhaps it is good that we have all had to confront our ultimate fear. Terri Schiavo’s living legacy is that she gave us a choice in declaring how we wish to confront the waning days of our lives. In passing, she offers us another choice: Hold on to the grief, the sorrow, the rage or let it go and begin the healing. Forgive and begin to heal.

I appeal to all faiths, whether tied to organized religion or not: Let her go.

Jazz.

JACK RANDOM IS THE AUTHOR OF THE JAZZMAN CHRONICLES (CROW DOG PRESS) AND GHOST DANCE INSURRECTION (DRY BONES PRESS).

JackRandom.Com
Home of Random Jack