A cautionary tale if ever there was one, and I'm truly sorry for yours and Jurate's troubles and situation. The end of the life of a loved one shouldn't be made the harder to deal with and bear by something such as this, brought on by relatives who are being, in the end, selfish - regardless of what they think they know and believe about…
A cautionary tale if ever there was one, and I'm truly sorry for yours and Jurate's troubles and situation. The end of the life of a loved one shouldn't be made the harder to deal with and bear by something such as this, brought on by relatives who are being, in the end, selfish - regardless of what they think they know and believe about the 'sanctity of life'.
I have 'religious' beliefs about the sanctity of life, but they do not include its preservation through artificial and external means beyond the point that those means can only perpetuate a heartbeat and nothing more, with no chance of 'more' ever becoming a reality. Where religious teachings and doctrine fail in the modern era is not in their designating life as sacrosanct, but in failing to define what *life* actually *is* in this day and age vis a vie Jurate's circumstances and mankind's learned ability to perpetuate a pulse.
The theologians can argue about this all they want. But I doubt the God I believe in is pleased by this, since in instances such as this, what I essentially see is a child and creation of God (her sister) withholding from Him that which is rightfully His... and would be such under different circumstances. Which is a clear form of theft. And we all know how God, whether you believe in Him or not, is supposed to feel about stealing.
Years ago, I read a book titled Death Be Not Proud, a memoir of a father's intimate journey with a son suffering from a terminal disease. Diagnosed at a young age, he outlived not only the time his doctor's thought he had to live when diagnosed, but he *lived* far better and accomplished more than they ever thought would be the case. When the inevitable came, and everything that could reasonably be done to preserve and extend his son's life had been done, in describing his last peaceful moments, free of life-extending artifices, the father said of his passing: "Like a thief, death came and took him."
That line has always stayed with me for some reason, and I understood then and now it must have been the expression of a pain and anguish and disappointment that I myself have not experienced, though I have lost loved ones in my life. But in the end, that father did not try to deny his son's true creator that which was His, but rather was thankful that he'd received the gift of his son in the first place, and the joy he brought into his life and the world. He was, in the end, at peace because of that.
My prayer for you, TC, is that you and Jurate will soon find the peace you're both due but are being denied, even if death has to slip on the guise of a thief to deliver it to you.
A cautionary tale if ever there was one, and I'm truly sorry for yours and Jurate's troubles and situation. The end of the life of a loved one shouldn't be made the harder to deal with and bear by something such as this, brought on by relatives who are being, in the end, selfish - regardless of what they think they know and believe about the 'sanctity of life'.
I have 'religious' beliefs about the sanctity of life, but they do not include its preservation through artificial and external means beyond the point that those means can only perpetuate a heartbeat and nothing more, with no chance of 'more' ever becoming a reality. Where religious teachings and doctrine fail in the modern era is not in their designating life as sacrosanct, but in failing to define what *life* actually *is* in this day and age vis a vie Jurate's circumstances and mankind's learned ability to perpetuate a pulse.
The theologians can argue about this all they want. But I doubt the God I believe in is pleased by this, since in instances such as this, what I essentially see is a child and creation of God (her sister) withholding from Him that which is rightfully His... and would be such under different circumstances. Which is a clear form of theft. And we all know how God, whether you believe in Him or not, is supposed to feel about stealing.
Years ago, I read a book titled Death Be Not Proud, a memoir of a father's intimate journey with a son suffering from a terminal disease. Diagnosed at a young age, he outlived not only the time his doctor's thought he had to live when diagnosed, but he *lived* far better and accomplished more than they ever thought would be the case. When the inevitable came, and everything that could reasonably be done to preserve and extend his son's life had been done, in describing his last peaceful moments, free of life-extending artifices, the father said of his passing: "Like a thief, death came and took him."
That line has always stayed with me for some reason, and I understood then and now it must have been the expression of a pain and anguish and disappointment that I myself have not experienced, though I have lost loved ones in my life. But in the end, that father did not try to deny his son's true creator that which was His, but rather was thankful that he'd received the gift of his son in the first place, and the joy he brought into his life and the world. He was, in the end, at peace because of that.
My prayer for you, TC, is that you and Jurate will soon find the peace you're both due but are being denied, even if death has to slip on the guise of a thief to deliver it to you.