Schiavo
Mar/22/2005 06:37 PM | Angels and Pins
| Permalink
Of course, the issue in this case is that there is no directive. And so, everyone is left to try and
guess what Terri Shaivo would have wanted. I have to say that the strikingly high number of judges that have reviewed this case is compelling. You can read a whole timeline here. It's clear to me, as an outsider, that even before Congress and the President stepped into this mess last week, that this case had gotten far more review than most. I guess that's one of the things that bothers me most about what they did....that this was a case that ALREADY had far more review than any case involving any of our loved ones ever would. If you're Terrie's parents, at some point, you've got to say that you've simply had your day in court, and that it's time to accept the verdict. All the President and Congress did was to throw a wrench into the mess.
I have a great deal of compassion for Terrie's parents. And the hardest truth, yet to come, for them is that long after she is gone, they will feel a gaping hole in the center of their heart that can never be filled. I cannot begin to say I know how they feel. I don't. But I do know that, long after her death (assuming that is soon...) their grief will be great...even if they live with the consolation that they did all they could do.
I also have a great deal of compassion for Terrie's husband, Michael Schiavo. This man has been called every name in the book by conservative talk radio hosts in the past few weeks. I can't imagine trying to make life and death decisions, deal with my own emotions, AND fend off that kind of attack all at the same time.
I certainly don't think the guy is a saint. However, he IS Terrie's legal guardian. He is her
HUSBAND. You can fault him for his relationship with another woman. And yet, were I in
Terrie's place --in a vegitative state, unable to communicate or give my wife any love and affection, I would hope she would do exactly what Mr. Schiavo is doing. I would hope he would fight like hell for my wishes. And I would hope he would take care of his own needs, and perhaps even be willing to move on in life without me. Keep in mind: he's been dealing with this not for fifteen months, but fifteen YEARS.
And another thing that grabs me about this case is that the same people who claim to be pro-sanctity-of-marriage appear to be claiming that it doesn't apply in this case. If you REALLY supported the sanctity of marriage, you would be supporting Michael Schaivo in this case. (You will note in the timeline that Mr. Schaivo personally flew with Terrie to California to try experimental treatments, and that he and Terrie's parents at one point even shared a home together in the early year, before they parted ways concerning her prognosis.
As a person of faith, I am also struck by the religious nature of this case. Conservative
Christians have taken to this case, and it has come to head here, during Holy Week. What strikes me about this is that the entire message of Easter is one of life winning out over death.
Everyone, perhaps on both sides, seems to have lost sight of this. When I was in a Lutheran elementary school. We lots of wonderful songs that we performed for our parents at assemblies. I don't remember most of them. But for some reason, all these years later, I still remember the chorus to one of them:
"If I live, well, praise the Lord
If I die, well, praise the Lord
If I love or die,
My only cry
will be,
Jesus in me,
Praise the Lord."
Isn't the Easter message that, live or die, there is resurrection? Whether Terrie Schaivo lives for two more days, or twenty more years...whether I do...whether YOU do....isn't the "point" of Easter to trust in a life that NEVER ends? How has THAT message gotten so lost in this story?
Finally, one other HUGE irony that really gets me in my bones. And, unfortunately, almost NO ONE on either side is talking about it. And it has to do with Terrie Schiavo herself, and how she got into this state. It has to do with the forgotten tradgedy of this woman in the hospital bed. She is not just a pawn for this whole "right to die" battle. She is also a symbol of what's often so tragically wrong about women and our society.
By all accounts, she ended up in this persistent vegitative state because she had a heart
attack. She had a heart attack because she had a potasium imbalance. And she had a
potasium imbalance because she was an undiagnosed bulemic. In fact, the malpractice case her husband won was because of this missed-diagnosis.
So now, a woman who starved herself is once again starving. In some ways, it's the tragic end that perhaps the sick part of herself wanted years ago. The deepest tradgedy in this case is that she needed help years ago and, for whatever reasons, her parents, husband, and all her friends were unable to reach her. Her own disease landed her in this spot. And, arguably, it's really what is causing her to die.
Here's hoping that in the cases of future women like her, we can get them help before they starve themselves to death.
I will continue to pray for her, for all her family and friends. And for our nation as we deal
with all these issues.
--30--
MarchGigs05
Mar/08/2005 07:12 AM | Music News | Permalink
March
Gigs
Thanks to all those who came out to my show last Friday night at Dunn Bros. Coffee, in Addison. Thanks especially to the friends (you know who you are, who were there early....and those who stayed late!)
Looks like I've picked up another coffee house gig next weekend. I'll be playing at the Nodding Dog Coffee Co in Oak Cliff. You can get all the details here.
Nodding Dog is a great coffee house in the burgeoning "Bishop Arts District" of Oak Cliff, a nicely revitalized area of shops and restaurants. My friend Lisa Markely plays at Nodding Dog a lot, and it was recently named one of Dallas' best coffee houses. I hope you'll make plans now, and come by. All the details (maps, address, phone, weblink, etc...) can be found here.
Thanks to all those who came out to my show last Friday night at Dunn Bros. Coffee, in Addison. Thanks especially to the friends (you know who you are, who were there early....and those who stayed late!)
Looks like I've picked up another coffee house gig next weekend. I'll be playing at the Nodding Dog Coffee Co in Oak Cliff. You can get all the details here.
Nodding Dog is a great coffee house in the burgeoning "Bishop Arts District" of Oak Cliff, a nicely revitalized area of shops and restaurants. My friend Lisa Markely plays at Nodding Dog a lot, and it was recently named one of Dallas' best coffee houses. I hope you'll make plans now, and come by. All the details (maps, address, phone, weblink, etc...) can be found here.
--30--
Bruce Rouse
Mar/03/2005 06:28 PM | Balcony People
| Permalink
Back from
Austin, and two days with the Rouse family and all
his friends. As I mentioned at the end of last month's
blog, Bruce's family asked
me to be a part of the leadership for his memorial
service, something I considered a great, if
unwanted, honor...
Logistically, it was a little bit difficult to get it all together, since there were three folk singers, and four speakers that had been asked to participate. The singers were three of folk's greatest: Cate Campbell, Allan Shamblin, and Ray Wylie Hubbard. Everyone was incredibly accomodatingwith their time, to make it all come together.
One speaker was a coworker of Bruce's of 30 years, who talked about his worklife. Two more were house concert folks who have started their own series' because of Bruce's support and mentoring.
The last speaker was Nancy Hafner. Many folks probably don't realize that the Hafer's and the Rouse's have known each other since their kids were born....they pretty much grew up theirfamilies together.
Several of you have asked about the two poems that I shared at the funeral. So, here they are. The first is by a woman named Joyce Grenfell. I don't know anything about her, nor do I remember where I first found this poem:
"Life Goes On
If I should go before the rest of you
Break not a flower
Nor inscribe a stone
Nor when I am gone
Speak in a Sunday voice
But be the usual selves
That I have known
Weep if you must
Parting is hell
But life goes on
So .... sing as well
Joyce Grenfell 1910-1979"
The second poem was from Henry Scott Holland, who at one time was the Canon of St. Paul's Catheral, over a hundred years ago now. Interestingly, Meg Hoke told me she has this poem up on the wall in her office.
"All Is Well
Death is nothing at all,
I have only slipped into the next room
I am I and you are you
Whatever we were to each other, that we are still.
Call me by my old familiar name,
Speak to me in the easy way which you always used
Put no difference in your tone,
Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow
Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes we enjoyed together. Play, smile, think of me, pray for me.
Let my name be ever the household word that it always was,
Let it be spoken without effect, without the trace of shadow on it.
Life means all that it ever meant.
It it the same as it ever was, there is unbroken continuity.
Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight?
I am waiting for you, for an interval, somewhere very near,
Just around the corner.
All is well.
Henry Scott Holland"
After the service, everyone adjourned to Live Oak Unitarian Church, home of the Live Oak series. There dozens and dozens of songwriters performed through the evening. Bruce's son-in-law, Lindsey Lee, mceed for the night. There was a documentary film that had been made about the Rouses' last year which got shown. It was actually a little shocking to see Bruce's face...but after the initial shock, it was nice to hear him talking about house concerts.
But most of all, the evening was filled with music. Musican after musicians got up to do a song. The gathering went on for hours, but no one really paid notice of the time. As Lindsey said, it was like one big, extended "Songwriter Breakfast." I did my song "The Natural Thing," and I was really pleased to have all 200 folks singing along with the chorus.
What EVERYONE kept remembering about Bruce, besides the fact that he was a world-class wonderful guy, was what great hugs he gave. And, as if on cue, about halfway through the night, Todd Hoke showed up with these buttons.
During the memorial service in the afternoon, I shared some of my memories of Bruce.
Here's a summary of my what I said:
To say that Bruce was a fan of folk music doesn't do it justice. Bruce was a lover, friend, and servant to the folk music community. By email this week, TR Richie called Bruce and Liz "a sparkplug in the funky old folk music engine." The "Rouse House" concert series he and Liz created was one of the most successful series in the country. They did not INVENT house concerts, but it could be argued that POPULARIZED them. They did ten shows a year for fourteen years. Liz estimates they lost about $100 bucks a show. You do the math.
But, of course, it never mattered. Because they were doing it for the love of the music, and the love of the musicians and fans who became their friends. Bruce and Liz held the "Songwriter Breakfasts" at their camp at Kerrville. (Where I first met them, and where they always graciously invited me to play&hellip
They organized an area there for
the New Folk Finalists. They were inseparable
partners….they were two parts of a whole.
They loved to travel in their camper.
And if you had been to a folk festival that they hadn't heard of, they would make you sit down, tell them all about it, because that might be a place that they'd like to visit one day.
Bruce and Liz met while dancing, and they danced their whole lives. It's hard to find a man who was as admired and loved by so many.
One of the most important things we take from the death of the friend like Bruce is a question. The question is: "What it is about their life we want to immulate, and that we want to become?"
For me, the answer is: a kind, loving, and welcoming spirit….
In a Austin Stateman story this week, Christine Albert talked about the Rouse House series, and said: "They had not just rearranged their living room, they'd rearrainged their lives to do something they absolutely loved."
Rearainge your life to do something you love….
Isn't that a goal we can all take from Bruce's life?
Bruce was only a find parent to his two daughters, but Bruce was a surrogate parent and mentor to hundreds of musicians and friends. He rearrainged his life for people.
I remember Bruce best from those Kerrville songwriter breakfasts he and Liz threw.
As a songwriter myself, Bruce and Liz would always graciously insist that I come and play a song. And what I remember about Bruce from those groggy and very hazy
mornings, where nobody had slept more than about three or four hours (at best) is that Bruce was always chipper and happy. He listened to ALL the songwriters..the good, the bad, and the ugly. (And, as you know, there IS sometimes, the ugly&hellip He'd be standing at the back,
offering you a fresh cup of coffee, or a
butter-up bagel. And he'd give you a big hug
too.
Although I've been to Kerrville for several years, my wife was a first timer last May. Neither Dennise nor I was real sure whether she was going to like Kerrvile or not. I was a little afraid that, with all my raving about it, the reality would seem far less to her than what I'd built it up to be. Turns out, she loved it. That first weekend we were there, we stumbled into the Songwriter Breakfast, and I introduced Dennise to Bruce. And Bruce immediately threw his arms around her, and gave her a HUGE hug, as if Dennise was some long-lost friend that had been found. I thought a lot about that this week, after I heard Bruce had died.
You may not, but I happen to believe in life that never ends. I happen to believe in a resurrection, although I can't tell you what it's like, really. But I know that just as the bluebonnets will soon be blooming again, here in the Hill Country, life somehow always comes back around and never really ends. And if there IS a kingdom of heaven out there somewhere, I like to imagine that it's a LOT like a Rouse House gathering….
….there's music
….there's smiles
….there's love and support…
And when we get there someday, Bruce will be there, waiting with buttered bagels, fresh coffee, and the big bear hug to welcome us home.
Logistically, it was a little bit difficult to get it all together, since there were three folk singers, and four speakers that had been asked to participate. The singers were three of folk's greatest: Cate Campbell, Allan Shamblin, and Ray Wylie Hubbard. Everyone was incredibly accomodatingwith their time, to make it all come together.
One speaker was a coworker of Bruce's of 30 years, who talked about his worklife. Two more were house concert folks who have started their own series' because of Bruce's support and mentoring.
The last speaker was Nancy Hafner. Many folks probably don't realize that the Hafer's and the Rouse's have known each other since their kids were born....they pretty much grew up theirfamilies together.
Several of you have asked about the two poems that I shared at the funeral. So, here they are. The first is by a woman named Joyce Grenfell. I don't know anything about her, nor do I remember where I first found this poem:
"Life Goes On
If I should go before the rest of you
Break not a flower
Nor inscribe a stone
Nor when I am gone
Speak in a Sunday voice
But be the usual selves
That I have known
Weep if you must
Parting is hell
But life goes on
So .... sing as well
Joyce Grenfell 1910-1979"
The second poem was from Henry Scott Holland, who at one time was the Canon of St. Paul's Catheral, over a hundred years ago now. Interestingly, Meg Hoke told me she has this poem up on the wall in her office.
"All Is Well
Death is nothing at all,
I have only slipped into the next room
I am I and you are you
Whatever we were to each other, that we are still.
Call me by my old familiar name,
Speak to me in the easy way which you always used
Put no difference in your tone,
Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow
Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes we enjoyed together. Play, smile, think of me, pray for me.
Let my name be ever the household word that it always was,
Let it be spoken without effect, without the trace of shadow on it.
Life means all that it ever meant.
It it the same as it ever was, there is unbroken continuity.
Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight?
I am waiting for you, for an interval, somewhere very near,
Just around the corner.
All is well.
Henry Scott Holland"
After the service, everyone adjourned to Live Oak Unitarian Church, home of the Live Oak series. There dozens and dozens of songwriters performed through the evening. Bruce's son-in-law, Lindsey Lee, mceed for the night. There was a documentary film that had been made about the Rouses' last year which got shown. It was actually a little shocking to see Bruce's face...but after the initial shock, it was nice to hear him talking about house concerts.
But most of all, the evening was filled with music. Musican after musicians got up to do a song. The gathering went on for hours, but no one really paid notice of the time. As Lindsey said, it was like one big, extended "Songwriter Breakfast." I did my song "The Natural Thing," and I was really pleased to have all 200 folks singing along with the chorus.
What EVERYONE kept remembering about Bruce, besides the fact that he was a world-class wonderful guy, was what great hugs he gave. And, as if on cue, about halfway through the night, Todd Hoke showed up with these buttons.
During the memorial service in the afternoon, I shared some of my memories of Bruce.
Here's a summary of my what I said:
To say that Bruce was a fan of folk music doesn't do it justice. Bruce was a lover, friend, and servant to the folk music community. By email this week, TR Richie called Bruce and Liz "a sparkplug in the funky old folk music engine." The "Rouse House" concert series he and Liz created was one of the most successful series in the country. They did not INVENT house concerts, but it could be argued that POPULARIZED them. They did ten shows a year for fourteen years. Liz estimates they lost about $100 bucks a show. You do the math.
But, of course, it never mattered. Because they were doing it for the love of the music, and the love of the musicians and fans who became their friends. Bruce and Liz held the "Songwriter Breakfasts" at their camp at Kerrville. (Where I first met them, and where they always graciously invited me to play&hellip
They organized an area there for
the New Folk Finalists. They were inseparable
partners….they were two parts of a whole.
They loved to travel in their camper.
And if you had been to a folk festival that they hadn't heard of, they would make you sit down, tell them all about it, because that might be a place that they'd like to visit one day.
Bruce and Liz met while dancing, and they danced their whole lives. It's hard to find a man who was as admired and loved by so many.
One of the most important things we take from the death of the friend like Bruce is a question. The question is: "What it is about their life we want to immulate, and that we want to become?"
For me, the answer is: a kind, loving, and welcoming spirit….
In a Austin Stateman story this week, Christine Albert talked about the Rouse House series, and said: "They had not just rearranged their living room, they'd rearrainged their lives to do something they absolutely loved."
Rearainge your life to do something you love….
Isn't that a goal we can all take from Bruce's life?
Bruce was only a find parent to his two daughters, but Bruce was a surrogate parent and mentor to hundreds of musicians and friends. He rearrainged his life for people.
I remember Bruce best from those Kerrville songwriter breakfasts he and Liz threw.
As a songwriter myself, Bruce and Liz would always graciously insist that I come and play a song. And what I remember about Bruce from those groggy and very hazy
mornings, where nobody had slept more than about three or four hours (at best) is that Bruce was always chipper and happy. He listened to ALL the songwriters..the good, the bad, and the ugly. (And, as you know, there IS sometimes, the ugly&hellip
He'd be standing at the back,
offering you a fresh cup of coffee, or a
butter-up bagel. And he'd give you a big hug
too.
Although I've been to Kerrville for several years, my wife was a first timer last May. Neither Dennise nor I was real sure whether she was going to like Kerrvile or not. I was a little afraid that, with all my raving about it, the reality would seem far less to her than what I'd built it up to be. Turns out, she loved it. That first weekend we were there, we stumbled into the Songwriter Breakfast, and I introduced Dennise to Bruce. And Bruce immediately threw his arms around her, and gave her a HUGE hug, as if Dennise was some long-lost friend that had been found. I thought a lot about that this week, after I heard Bruce had died.
You may not, but I happen to believe in life that never ends. I happen to believe in a resurrection, although I can't tell you what it's like, really. But I know that just as the bluebonnets will soon be blooming again, here in the Hill Country, life somehow always comes back around and never really ends. And if there IS a kingdom of heaven out there somewhere, I like to imagine that it's a LOT like a Rouse House gathering….
….there's music
….there's smiles
….there's love and support…
And when we get there someday, Bruce will be there, waiting with buttered bagels, fresh coffee, and the big bear hug to welcome us home.