Life Lines

I, like many people around the world, watched the Terry Schiavo case unfold on TV. The Republicans eagerly lapped up the ‘Pro-life’ political mileage out of the situation, and the Democrats reluctantly agreed with them, afraid of the Christian right. It was disgusting.

I was glad to see her leave. Fifteen years as a vegetable seemed long enough punishment for a bright young woman.

But yesterday, I watched Million Dollar Baby. Hillary Swank’s character, an immensely successful boxing champion, begs her trainer, played by Clint Eastwood, to shut off her life support system after she has had her spinal cord is injured and her leg amputated. After much debate with himself and his (Catholic) priest, he does it.

The movie left me troubled. There were no winners. It was well made, but definitely disturbing. Maybe taking away her life was not answer. Maybe there are no answers. Maybe there are no lines to be drawn. Maybe we draw these lines regardless, hoping to etch in eternity, a path that leads straight to Heaven. Maybe there is no Heaven. And no Hell. What a dissapointment for all those people with wooden rulers and grey pencils, laying down the ashen lines that divide black and white.