Why my‘no’ votes may still take some time

My eldest son, a conscientious lawabiding Wellington liberal millennial – beard and propensity to hang out in Cuba street cafes cliche´s included – knocked on my bedroom door with a fist full of mail.

‘‘Good!’’ he exclaimed with genuine enthusiasm. ‘‘Our early voting packs have arrived!’’

He sounded like a badly written commercial for the electoral commission. ‘‘I shall slip them under everyone’s door,’’ he continued with ludicrous vigour.

Then, as he placed an envelope on my bed with dramatic flair: ‘‘I’m going to vote tomorrow. You?’’

Those years at Vic doing theatre studies had paid off.

I looked at the envelope. ‘‘No Tom,’’ I said. ‘‘I’m still undecided.’’

Tom looked aghast. Possibly overly aghast, but he is after all an actor. ‘‘How can you not know what you’re voting for still?’’

‘‘It’s the referendums.’’ I said calmly, still staring without blinking at the orange envelope. ‘‘I know how I want to vote, but I need to make sure I’ve thought through my reasoning.’’

I’m not sure why I chose to engage, as it was highly unlikely he’d not find my reasoning to his liking. He looked at me and summed up that an argument might erupt.

‘‘Okie dokey.’’ He said in a clipped voice – and exited stage left.

There is no hesitation for me regarding legalising ‘‘recreational’’ marijuana. I know all the stats, but I have seen firsthand the carnage and destruction brought about by marijuana and, despite people saying ‘‘but legalising drugs has been an amazing success in Portugal’’, my reply is, ‘‘we are not Portuguese’’.

It’s likely they also don’t beat their partners and children to death so frequently, drink to black-out, drive and kill people in cars so regularly and have gang fights in the streets with such alarming regularity. So don’t compare us to the Portuguese.

I can’t smoke weed. It sends me into psychosis. I’ve seen young men’s lives destroyed by starting their weedsmoking careers with their mothers or fathers aged 13.

Medicinal? Yes. Recreational? No. Whatever happens, it will still be run by the gangs and big pharma. It will probably pass, and that’s OK, but I’m not voting yes.

As for the right to die, my friend David, who is ‘‘27’’ and whose politics generally offend me but I love him anyway, has actually accidentally given me the argument I need as to why I’m questioning the referendum.

David’s mother said to him, ‘‘I want the ability to die with dignity and, if I am in so much pain with no quality of life, I want to be able to choose to end it.’’

‘‘But you’re my Mum and I want you here, no matter what. Isn’t it selfish to want to die when I love you so much that all I’ll want is to have you in any state for as long as I can?’’

‘‘No!’’she said firmly. ‘‘If I’m suffering that badly I deserve to choose death.’’

I get that. Here’s where I may upset and enrage. What do so many people say when a broken mentally tortured soul chooses to end their life?

‘‘Oh my God how selfish!’’

I don’t say that, but many do. ‘‘Why is it selfish for someone in excruciating, endless mental blackness and pain to choose death, and yet with a physical disease it’s dignified?’’

I may vote ‘‘no’’ on that one too, and that’s despite seeing people I love die of other horrible lingering diseases. My vote won’t be to hurt them but rather as a very important chance for me to say ‘‘can we please see that for many people who take their own lives, it’s because the pain has become so great that there genuinely is nothing selfish about their choice to die. Their pain should not be diminished. It should not be treated any differently to other terminal and torturous disease.

I’m still not sure if I can vote quite yet. I might need to examine myself harder but it’s surely something to consider. It’s far more important to take a stand on these issues than whether to change the bloody flag. Surely.

David’s voting ‘‘yes’’ despite my argument. Good on him.

Which is said with absolute respect and love to all of those who are suffering terminal physical and mental illness.

I know how I want to vote, but I need to make sure I’ve thought through my reasoning.