I first met Christine through this discussion about a year ago. A beautiful young woman, an artist who was injured in 2005 as a result of a diving accident. This all happened at the kind of party very young people have and Christine blamed herself for becoming a quadriplegic. And so she suffered.

And she suffered because she couldn't envision having quality of life with all of her difficulties with her bowels and pain and all of the other issues that go with quadriplegia.

Nevertheless she fought tenaciously to have the quality of life that she needed to survive.

We spoke through public discussions, and we spoke through private e-mail correspondence. And she became clear that she did not want to suffer anymore.

She told me in the spring that she was going to visit her mother in Florida to say goodbye and when she got home she was going to consult hospice and refuse food and medication.

My first reaction was to try to save her life. I reacted not as a psychologist, but quadriplegic who understood that suffering and knew that what feels intolerable can become tolerable. I reacted as a father who couldn't bear the idea that someone I cared about so much wanted to take her life.

We continued our correspondence briefly and even spoke on the phone. When I got past my own distress, I could see she was clear about what she wanted to do and even seen at peace with it. There was no anger or even despair. Just a thoughtful reflective decision.

As a psychologist, I wanted more time to listen to her, to hold her life. As a moral man, I wanted to step back and allow her respect her wishes.

Last week I was notified that Christine passed away just as she had planned. I had mixed feelings. I was glad she was no longer suffering. But the other emotions I felt I couldn't quite identify until I remembered an event that took place many years ago in California.

I was visiting a dear friend of mine and she took me to see the redwoods for the first time in my life. I was in awe as I witnessed these massive structures when my friend said: "you know Dan for such big trees, they have shallow roots systems." I asked her how they were able to get their stability: "These trees tend to grow in clusters and their root systems interlock, that's how they get their stability."

When I heard about Christine, I felt a bit less stability. I wish her and her family peace. I wish that for all of us.