25 March 2005

Dear Terri

--by Mike Murray

Every now and then, Easter falls in March. This year, it shares a calendar date with my birthday.

While not particularly religious myself, I very much appreciate the importance of this Easter / Passover season to many millions of people around the world. And even though my own participation in the activities of organized religion has evaporated, I nevertheless have faith in a "higher power," and I do celebrate the concepts that underlie this special time of the year.

To have a birthday that shares a date with Easter, then, would normally be a wonderful thing. But this is not a normal year.

I cannot focus on much but your terrible plight. Certainly, there is little for me to celebrate while you lie helpless in that bed, dependent on the mercy of others. Your circumstance has me more upset than I have been in quite some time.

I realize that there is much suffering in the world, and that not a single moment elapses that does not testify to the misery of many. So, though I side with those who believe that you are, indeed, in distress (physical, mental, and emotional), I concede that you share your burden of discomfort with countless others.

What makes your situation so very difficult for people like me to bear, however, is that it is being played out right before our eyes. We are constantly being reminded that we are a "nation of laws," that we must comply with a set of rules that forces us to knowingly accept your suffering -- and to do nothing about it.

A handful of judges wring their hands and tell us that they are bound by the testimony of your "husband" -- a person who is now living a new life with a new woman and with the children that she bore him. His testimony contends that you once (in your youth, as a twenty-something) made a remark about the undesirability of living life in a severely diminished state.

That an off-hand remark, made in connection with a hypothetical situation, related by someone whose level of concern and integrity are now in question, should be permitted to guide legal decisions that threaten your life is appalling to me.

Making matters worse, there is not a consensus about what, exactly, your present state is. There are some medical experts who say that your capacities are frightfully low, and that the prognosis is bad. Others disagree.

Some of them -- some who have examined you very recently -- are far more optimistic. They are more optimistic about your future (should you be allowed to have one, and should you be permitted the physical therapy that your "husband" has reportedly refused you). And they are more convinced that, even in your current state, your quality of life is far from nil.

I don't understand why so many people around the country have weighed in, arguing against keeping you alive. I don't understand why they oppose the notion that custody should be transferred to your loving parents. No one begrudges your "husband" his opportunity to move on, to have a life of his own.

You are entitled to no less.

I am deeply troubled by the intrusion of politics into this case. Too many times in recent days I've witnessed hired guns for both major parties debating the particulars of your difficult situation. Traditional-airwave transmissions on radio and on television, and on programs carried by round-the-clock cable outlets, have all been invaded by political hacks.

I'm not talking now about the efforts of specific government officials on your behalf. If the public has noticed that one party has been far more willing than the other to assist you, so be it. If those troubled by that contrast would like to remedy the unflattering image, I am sure that their help would be welcomed by you and your family.

No one needs to tell you that this is not a Democrat or Republican issue. It's a human issue. It is literally a matter of life and death. Your life. Your death.

The way events have unfolded this past week has observers like me deeply concerned. We're concerned for you. And we're concerned for ourselves. What kind of society do we live in, that membership requires us to stand idly by while you suffer so? While you die by inches?

It's as if you were standing in the third-floor window of a burning building. Standing there as those of us on the ground are instructed not to catch you, should you attempt to jump to safety. Standing there as we bystanders are informed that the person holding custodial rights to your existence has indicated that you wish not to be caught -- that you have nothing left to live for ...that we should just trust him about this. That we should "lawfully" restrain ourselves, even as the flames slowly consume you, or as you leap to your demise.

Pardon me if I am troubled by such a scenario. No, you are not literally in such figurative danger. Your danger is all too real. You are facing imminent death -- a death made certain by virtue of your custodian-husband's order that you be denied food and water. No living thing can survive without sustenance. His decision to withhold yours is nothing less, then, than a decision to willfully extinguish your life.

Your legal guardian tells us that this is what you want. But he took seven years, post-incident, to reveal as much. There have been questions about his motives, about his actions all along. Those are ponderings for another day. For now, many of us only wish he would relinquish custody to two people whose devotion to you is unquestioned: your parents.

If your folks decided that your situation was hopeless, that your existence was unendurably awful, no one would doubt them. Neither would anyone imagine that they would keep you alive one moment longer than was reasonable -- certainly not for their own morbid edification. Nearly all observers would agree that your mother and your father would absolutely act in your best interest. That they would put your welfare above all else.

I confess that I don't pray very often. God and I aren't on close terms, I'm afraid. Entreaties from me probably count for little, then. But I do pray for you. I pray for the miracle that would transfer custody to those whose love and affection for you are above reproach.

As I write this, it is Good Friday. It is customary for the faithful to give up some form of pleasure during the Lenten season. While I am no longer a practitioner of religious convention, I have nevertheless given up solid food for the past three days. I will continue to refrain from ingesting solid food so long as you live and are denied nourishment of your own.

I realize that it is a small gesture. But maybe the small gestures of the millions who are pulling for you will add up to enough to move God to intercede on your behalf. Perhaps not. But we cannot stand by and do nothing at all as you helplessly, painfully -- and needlessly -- expire.

Your time is short; you have been denied food and water for more than a week already. Absent swift intervention, you will soon leave us. I hope there is some way that you can know that many of us are suffering on your behalf. When you go, a part of us will go with you.

(P.S.) Dear God: If you've been wondering about what to get me for my birthday, I know a really great gift. As you're surely aware, there is this precious soul down here named Terri...