Rejoicing over a death

I am sure blogs across the globe are ringing out in joy or sadness over the passing of Terri Schiavo. Rest in piece little lady. Your story could have been mine. I can relate to the fat girl story the family has released. I know that pain. But unlike Terri Schiavo, my family knows my wishes. I have always been abundantly clear on that point. DO NOT keep me alive if I have no chance of a meaningful recovery. I don't want to live in a warehouse for the next x-decades taking up oxygen and being an obligation for those that love me.

I think about my mom, gone almost 5 years now, and I feel GUILT that I don't visit her grave. Why? She is not there. It is just a small spot of real estate. She's with me more than in that park with other pine boxes in cement cases. I must say, I love the cemetary she is at. It's beautiful and natural, but it is not where she is. She is in my heart and in the heart of all that knew her. So, I don't want to feel obligated to go visit her grave, and I don't want others to visit me in a home, where I can not interact, where I am not longer me. Pull the plug/tube, whatever, just don't do that to yourselves. You won't be doing it to me. I'll be gone. Let me as a vivacious, active, obsessive compulsive, overacheiving, loving person who DOES STUFF be the me you remember.

Thank you Terri for making this conversation occur in our country. And to those of you that have not yet made you wishes clear, ON PAPER, get the form from your local hospital... they all have them... and FILL IT OUT AND GIVE IT TO PEOPLE. Your spouse/partner, parents, siblings, children, DOCTOR, LAWYER. Make sure everyone knows your wishes, or Terri's story will have been in vane.