Other Columns by Debbie Daniel
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Wake up America . . . the alarm clock just went off and we keep turning over and going back to sleep. There's an "uprisin' on the horizon" and we refuse to face it. Sleeping through it might make it easier, but the end result will be devastating. We've had a lightning bolt cut through the very core of our foundation forming a crack so deep we could topple by our weight of indifference. This ship is listing badly; so tilted we may never be uprighted again.

Our love affair with America is "breaking apart" because our foundation is cracking. The winds of hatred are blowing hard; the thunderous protests have challenged our will, and the disease of apathy is eating away at our very root system. Go ahead and tell me I'm crazy. I'd actually rather hear that than to believe what I know to be true. I can handle my portended lunacy, but the reality of what I see happening before my very eyes is worse than a Shakespearean tragedy.

Last week was one of the most painful times of my life. I have never been on such a roller coaster of emotion and I can't seem to get beyond it. That's an admission I'm not proud to proclaim, but it's the truth. For a person who's always ready for "NEXT, one-two-three, GO," . . . I was stricken with a paralysis. My country was in great distress over a situation that caused everyone to lose. The visuals still play clearly in my mind and are more painful than I can express.

I was one of those people who wanted Terri Schiavo to live. I was one of those people who could not find any joy in Michael's Schiavo's relentless desire to fulfill his wife's "suddenly remembered" request seven years later. And lastly, I was one of those people you told to sit down and shut up. So I did. I needed just a little more time to mourn; it wasn't that easy for me.

With the passing of the Pope two days later, I could not move away so quickly from thoughts of Terri Schiavo's passing. I knew the Pope would be okay, but I wasn't sure about the rest of us.

I've cried in my quiet moments - not only for Terri - but for my beloved country, America.

My own quietness has brought about much anguish for me because I am not a quiet person. It is frightening . . . it is terrifying, for I realize the line has been drawn. The "crack" was so loud when Terri Schiavo died, I believe the Pope hung his head even lower and gave up his own will to fight any longer. He had been so deeply passionate about her life that we may have cast a blow to his. What a tragedy for all of us. What a sad commentary on mankind.

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