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I’LL choose the time of my death…

October 16, 2016

…if that  is, I don’t get collected by a  car, or, even   more likely, by one of the two-wheeled idiots who have suddenly infested our footpaths.

Why the morbid moment?

Pages 8 and 9 of this weekend’s “Sunday Mail”, a paper I have been wont to  deride and decry, carries the gut-wrenching, tear-jerking dairy of the last, horrific days of  Elaine Dawe. A diary which should be required reading  by  those in high places who force on us their heartless view on euthanasia.

Of course there needs to be safeguards. Of course there will be the very rare occasion where human intervention  into the life of another human is inspired by false motives. But the continued blanket ban on an individual’s wish to die with dignity MUST be overturned.

I speak from bitter experience. I seldom, if ever, am moved to tears. The last time was more than two decades ago, as I watched, helpless, as a very close relative shrunk from being a tall, stately  woman into a  helpless, bed-ridden shell. All because of the out-dated, heartless laws of the land.

What can we do about it?

We can offer our moral  support to Ashford  Member of Parliament Steph Key, one of Labor’s backbenchers and Liberal front-bencher  Duncan McFetridge  as they seek to make  significant amendments to the legislation Parliament is about to vote on  if it passes to the committee stage.

Meanwhile, if you haven’t already done so, grab a “Mail” and prepare to choke back tears.

 

 

 

 

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