Life’s Final Chapter


This poem is for two people I care a lot about, from both sides of this issue. When you love someone, you set them free.

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What is it that you find so hard to understand?

I explained it well, what I have planned.

I know that you love me and I love you too;

This is something that I’m just getting ready to do.

I’ve laughed, I’ve loved, I’ve shed some tears.

I’ve satisfied my doubts. I’ve conquered my fears.

You still have lots of living to do.

Don’t blame yourself that my time will be through.

It doesn’t have to be a bad thing. It’s no tragic loss.

The road will be over and I can put down my cross.

I desperately want rest, and lasting relief.

Why does that have to mean heartache and grief?

I’m not angry, I’m not even sad.

I value each second of life that I’ve had.

I know there is so much that I could still live for.

Each day holds promise, a new opened door;

I could continue this life; continue to try

To find some reason why I should not die.

I’m so tired of searching for reasons to live.

A knowledge of my death is a gift that I give.

I’m telling you now, so it will be easier on you

To celebrate my life, when my death is through.

It all could be over this very night.

With a few tiny pills I could put out my light.

But I don’t want you to be left asking why

You choose to live and I chose to die.

I want you to be a part of my life till I’m gone.

Please be a great part of this farewell song.

I’m thinking I still have ten to twelve years.

That should be plenty of time to dry all your tears.

At that point, there is nothing you should say.

I’ll die with dignity. Hopefully in a humane way.

Even our pets can be comfortably let go.

But for some reason our deaths must be painfully slow.

Perhaps tomorrow I’ll be hit by a car.

It could happen in town or when traveling far.

But if I survive till I’m ready to go,

Please don’t force it to be painful and slow.

Let me have fun. Let me be me,

And when that time comes, celebrate,

I’ll be free.

“I want to die, ask me why”


So I’m on this thing about assisted suicide/euthanasia/etc.

I need press. So, this is my latest brilliant idea. You know crowd sourcing? I want to make some t-shirts that say “I want to die, ask me why” with a link to some website I create, or my blog or something where I can express and propagate my views.

What do you think? PMAO, will you photoshop me a shirt pic like that? If you are opposed to this, no big deal. I’ll be looking at those t-shirt design websites today. More to come soon!

Bringing awareness for PD (Proactive Death)


Robin Williams recently passed away. More accurately, Robin Williams recently killed himself in a manner which would be considered “cruel and unusual” punishment for criminals.

Why, with all the resources, human rights, medications, etc.? Why does a person with plenty of money, resources, etc have to resort to something like that? Why do people with terminal, excruciating and humiliating illnesses have to watch helplessly as they deteriorate?

Why does everyone talk about how suicide is a tragedy? Because it is, even though it doesn’t have to be.

There are millions of self-help books which reference proactive living. Planning ahead is considered wise when planning for kids college, or preparing a will, or buying insurance, yet planning ahead for your own death means you’re unstable, in need of counseling or psychiatric care.

This, my dear readers, is absolute bullshit. We can buy burial plots, we can sign advance directives, we can even pick out our caskets long before we pass away. Why then can we not also determine the time, place, and method of our departure? Oh, that’s right, we can determine that…

As long as we do it in a secret, cruel and unusual sort of way.

We can plan our retirement, but we have to wait as long as possible before some terminal condition takes our independence, bladder control, sanity, and dignity.

I don’t get it. There is no way I can do this alone people. I am more than willing to be the first person to proactively “pass away”, but there are lots of people who need/want/deserve it sooner than I do. Please help me!

I’m wanting to get legislation advocating for the freedom to choose when/how to die. Human rights, pro-choice, senior citizen, disability, and many other advocates should be all over this. Please, reblogging this post or the prior one will help. Social media, news outlets, something, please. I can’t do this alone.

On death:


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Hallie wrote a post about the death of Robin Williams and her feelings about it. It’s an excellent post and very thought provoking. Check it out, but also, I commented over there and this is my comment:

Life is a journey for some, and a dental visit for others.

Everybody likes to see the end result, the beautiful smile, but no one cares about the pain that formed that smile. Of the countless hours of agony.

Constantly trying to convince yourself the expense, time, and energy spent creating your “smile” aka “life” is worth it. All the pain, revision after revision, trying to be perfect, or at least okay…maybe not okay to the world, but okay to yourself. Yet time after time, effort after effort, the world thinks its great, and yet you see the same face in the mirror.

It’s exhausting and defeating and at times unbearable. He showed the world a beautiful smile. Those who miss him ache for the beauty, but we need to also recognize the pain he must have endured, and we should appreciate the strength he fought for so long with. He is free now. Heaven, hell, nothing, I don’t know…but I long for freedom too.

Please talk with me in the comments people! Tell me your thoughts on life, death, suicide, celebrity, etc. I need distraction from my mind.

When you really should be sorry


A good friend of mine died today. She was almost 60 years older than me, but some people are kindred spirits, regardless of age. I don’t know exactly when we connected, or how. She was a very good friend of my mom’s, but when we met…I don’t know how to describe it. There are some people in this life who you should connect with.

We would occasionally get together for tea, and her perfect scones, and we would talk and laugh like we were kids. I told her about a friend in college that loved pennies. She said she loved dimes. Whenever she saw a shiny dime on the ground, she would be just a little excited, like it was a little treasure.

I cleaned her house a few times and one occasion, I brought a roll of dimes and left them in different spots all over the house. Later, when I had kids, we visited her and I sent them around with more dimes. Silly, but when you can bring a little joy into a life for a few dollars, it would be a shame to pass up the chance.

Her husband had died many years before I knew her, and she missed him as if it were yesterday. Things hadn’t been perfect between the two of them, but true love can handle some really rough times.

One time she told me that my mom was at times “too prude for her own good”. We laughed a lot. Cried together sometimes too. She sent me a letter a couple of months ago. I should have written her back, but life got in the way. She would understand though. She always did.

Anyway, I’m not writing this for sympathy. She lived a good life. This is not a life that should be mourned. In fact, the only thing that I think I really should be sorry for, is a life spent in self-pity, in fear, etc. A life not lived at all.

So, here’s to you my dear friend…a virtual toast in celebration of a beautiful life.

 

 

Trifextra: Leap


Trifextra:

Forty-three years ago today, Neil Armstrong became the first person to ever walk on the moon.  In celebration of Moon Day we want you to write 33 words about someone who took a giant leap.  It can mean whatever you’d like, just make sure you write exactly 33 words.

When do you realize you are out of options?

Planes crashing.

Smoke.

Heat.

Building moaning.

People screaming.

Scent of desperation.

Choices ending.

Glass breaking.

Man leaping.

Towers falling.

No good options.

Encompassing death.

A Life Worth Living?


You would feel the same way if you saw the look in your kids’ eyes. When you can’t tell who is in more pain, you, or your wife watching helplessly. I know the arguments. I know the reasons. I used to believe them too. Believe them…hell, I preached them…

“Your life is not in your hands! It is appointed unto man once to die. Does that say it is appointed unto man once to feel sorry for himself? It is appointed unto man once to feel some pain? If God wanted you to take your life, he would have put an “easy” button on our bodies so we could check out any time the going gets rough. GOD is the one who decides. He can heal or destroy. Blessed be the name of the Lord in sickness and in health.”

Oh yeah, I believed it alright. I’ll never forget the pained look in Stephanie’s eyes after she talked to me about her mom…

“Pastor Bill, what if someone is hurting…scared…”

“You must believe. You must have faith. There is a reason that she is still here. Don’t give in to the temptation to take the easy way out. I know that it is hard, but God can heal! You can’t forget that. He can take her mind and make it sharp again. If he can stop the mouths of lions, don’t you believe he can give your momma some peace?”

“I know he can. He could…you don’t understand though. She doesn’t know who we are. She is scared of the nurses, driven to madness by the constant beeping. If she has a clear moment, she begs us to take her life. The only reason she is even alive now is because of the medications they pump into her.”

“I am sure it is hard. She needs you to be strong…”

We never did finish that conversation. That is the problem with being a pastor. There is always someone waiting in line to shake your hand and tell you “nice sermon”. She probably didn’t think I cared. I know I didn’t fully understand…

I do now though. How the accident happened, I still can’t remember, but I will never forget the look in my kids eyes when they realized I had just lost control of my bowels. The fear in my wife’s face as she realized that the church would only cover the immediate costs from the accident, not the costs of a few months of inpatient care, and a year, if I’m lucky of home health. “Health” in which I will be lucky to remember who my wife is, as the internal injuries slowly kill me. No one should have to watch their kids wipe their dad’s ass or watch their wife give up her life to care for someone whose “life” isn’t really living at all.

Hobbler’s note: I need to know any objections to assisted suicide. Also any views for it. I wrote that story as fiction, but there are many people in far worse shape than anything I can imagine. Please share your opinions. I was born to take this debate to the next level, and this is your chance to make a difference.

Can’t think of a good title for this…


I just tried something that, although it wasn’t the worst thing I’ve ever tasted, it should probably be consumed mostly by people who are stoned and have the munchies. Not like I’d know anything about that…just “in theory”. The Dorito Taco from Taco Bell. There really isn’t a better way to describe it than a good “munchies” food.

A million times more important than that, we still haven’t heard from Bats. If you pray, pray for her. If you don’t pray, think of her. If you can’t find the time to think of her, then get off my blog. Seriously. This is not just some name. This is life or death. If you can’t understand that, I don’t want you on here.

Beating the odds:


I thought I’d throw this out there for a jump in my stats. 😉 That’s for you Lizzie.

So, the trial medication that I just started can interact with a certain virus that is in some people, with possible bad, horrible things, that would happen…

I have that virus.

So basically, there is a 0.4% chance that these would interact. Pretty good odds that they won’t. If they did interact though…I would have a 1 out of 3 chance that I would die. Let’s just say a painful death to make it interesting.

Three effects of the interaction:

  • Worsening of disability on a minor scale.
  • Worsening of disability on a major scale.
  • Death.

Current world population is  6,999,177,537 .

Using that figure, I had a 1 in 8,176,609, chance of even getting in this trial.

Now that I am in it, I have a 1 in 32,706, chance of having an interaction.

If I have an interaction, I have a 1 in 10,902, chance of dying.

Of course we all have a 1 in 5 chance of dying from heart disease, so looks like I’m beating the odds so far. 😉