Excerpt: I Have Nothing To Say

The final death I want to tell you about was that of a young girl named Samantha Smith. In November of 1982, at a critical time in the Cold War, Samantha, age ten, asked her mother why the Soviet Union hated us so much. Of the newly appointed Yuri Andropov, she reportedly asked, “If people are so afraid of him, why doesn't someone write a letter asking whether he wants to have a war or not?" To that her mother replied, “Why don’t you?”

The letter she sent (with the aid of her mother) ended with a simple and direct statement: God made the world for us to live together in peace and not to fight. In the response she received in April of 1983, Andropov personally acknowledged that hers was just one of many such letters he had received and that he too was very concerned about the future of our two nations. He then invited her to meet with him in his own country so they could discuss these important matters.

Samantha was heralded by the press as America’s Youngest Ambassador and her two week trip to Russia was highly publicized by both countries. Although it was certainly a political publicity stunt of sorts, this exchange marked a change in attitudes and inspired more such exchanges, including the visit of an eleven year old Soviet girl, Katya Lycheva, to the United States. Samantha later went on to visit Japan and meet with Prime Minister Yasuhiro Nakasone and to write a book about her experiences abroad.

But on August 25, 1985, at age thirteen, Samantha Smith perished with her father when Bar Harbor Airlines Flight 1808 crashed in Auburn, Maine, killing all six passengers and the two crew members. Her death was mourned by both the United States and the Soviet Union, and monuments were erected in her honor in Moscow and her home state of Maine. She was also immortalized in music, her face appeared on a postage stamp and several buildings have been named to honor her. Though neither leader was present for the funeral, both Ronald Reagan and Mikhail Gorbachev sent their personal condolences to Samantha’s mother.

What struck me most about her death, other than its untimeliness, was the way that fate had reached out and touched her twice, once to burn her name into history and once again to take away her life, both at such an early age.

We all die, most of us without national monuments. Some of us go very suddenly. Others linger. But it is inevitable and something that few can claim to have any experience at. Regardless of our religious beliefs, I think most of us are frightened by the prospect, or at the very least, it is a reminder to us that the clock is ticking, that whatever we hoped to accomplish in life we had better get on with.

My own life is half over, and that’s being optimistic.

It’s funny how the death of a loved one seems to wake us up. It’s suddenly very important to hug people, to tell them how much we love them, while we still have time. Family becomes more important. It’s suddenly okay to feel deeply and to cry. And it makes us reflect on our own lives, to wonder how we will be remembered. It’s a shame that we need such a reminder. But then time is like money…we tend to take it for granted until we realize how little we have left.

Let’s assume we have fourteen thousand days of health left on this earth, a little less than forty years. That sounds like a lot, but if those were dollars instead of days and we knew we weren’t getting any more, would we spend them so frivolously? Would we let even thirty go by without having at least something to show for it?

I agree with all the songs that urge us to live for today, to live like we were dying, because in fact we are. At the same time, we are still faced with the drudgery of everyday life, with the necessities of work and home, and for many of us, it is virtually impossible to put the polish on every single moment. I envy those few who seem to. But I do believe we need to step back and take account of ourselves regularly and to live as fully as we know how.

And maybe we need to give ourselves a few allowances. Aren’t the dying entitled to their last wishes? Sure, we need to be responsible, but there’s a marked difference between being responsible and being stifled. If you knew you would die in a year, would your priorities be the same as they are now? So are we all waiting until the last year of our lives to live the way we want?

I have one last thought on death: I think it’s inexcusable the way that the dying are made to suffer. Why is it we can put a dog out of its misery but not a human being? Why is it a convicted murderer has the right to a quick death but not a law abiding citizen? Why is it okay to withhold food or medicine for weeks but not okay to provide instant relief? The idea that euthanasia is somehow immoral is both ludicrous and unbelievably cruel. No one should be made to linger past their ability to benefit from it.