A Love Note of Remembrance for the Future

Right now we’re young and innocent without a worry in the world.

We live each passing day, bathing ourselves in the all that simply is,

Living in the moment—with no fear of what’s to come or regret for what was.

But will you remember me when we’ve grown old?

Will you remember the life we used to share together?

Will you cherish the way things used to be…

Before falling prey to the workings of time;

Before Life’s unpredictability led us down two separate, lonely paths?

Will you remember those nights spent lying beneath the twinkling of the stars,

Holding hands and gazing up wondrously at the heavens;

The way we used to dance together in the opalescent moonlight,

Two lovers amidst a symphony of silence and beating hearts,

And the glowing of a thousand fireflies in the dark.

Remember how we used to smile,

Remember how we used to laugh,

Remember how you used to fill my heart with happiness.

And if you are to only remember one thing, just remember how much youmeant to me;

Remember how I used to love you,

And remember that I always will.

Taking Wing to Heaven

If I could, I’d tie to me a thousand birds and fly,

Above the highest mountain tops, on past the clouds and sky;

I’d soar beyond the earth and stars, and land where angels play,

Just to hold you close once more—oh surely there’s a way.

Love Eternal

Someday I hope, when I grow old, I’ll find the one for me,

And we shall live our lives throughout in peace and harmony.

And when God comes and says it’s time for us to say adieu,

I’ll leave my earthly form behind but not my love for you.

Preserving Life: A Controversial Reflection On the Pro-Choice Debate

A flower does not begin a flower but a seedling, planted by the two hands of its gardener. It is not without a little love, care, and some patience, provided by those two tender hands over time, that that once tiny seedling can flourish and eventually blossom into the beautiful flower it’s destined to become.

Epictetus, an ancient Greek philosopher, once said, “No great thing is created suddenly.” In essence, greatness is an incubation process, and it takes time to develop, much like a mother’s carrying a child in her womb. But without a chance, greatness can never be achieved; it can never even be acquired, let alone perceived. When we support the idea of abortion as a feasible means to an end, we support the most basic violation of human rights: the right to LIFE, liberty, and the PURSUIT OF HAPPINESS. How can we be so selfish as to deny another the right to live, to have aspirations and dreams of their own, and to strive to achieve greatness for themselves? We will never know if we never give them a chance; instead, we often look towards the route that will best quench the thirst for resolution to our “problem”, our “mistake”—by diminishing the affects of cognitive dissonance, and clearing our head of the many conflicting thoughts that sail across our guilty mind like a boat amidst a tumultuous sea of regret and negative emotions. Unfortunately for many, the resolution to their “problem” is abortion.

And now to propose some questions… In America, do we not go through 12+ years of schooling? And do we not learn in the course of those 12 years at least once the process of human reproduction and the possible result of our participation in sexual acts between two members of opposite sex? While it may be said that not everyone in the world has such access to sexual education, and in some cases (such as rape or incest) not everyone is entirely at fault and at will for the result of pregnancy, it goes to say, that in the United States, where this topic is of great concern and importance to both men and women alike, we cannot deny then that we don’t have at least some knowledge of the consequences of having sex. Using negligence as an excuse for our life problems is not a valid excuse whatsoever.

Furthermore, in addressing the idea that men are in no way and should not in any way be part of a woman’s decision making process of whether or not she is to have an abortion is, simply put, absurd. While men may only contribute the sperm and the women do carry the baby for the first nine months of its pre-natal life, it still remains that that baby would not be in the first place without both, that that child is not strictly of one but possessing genes from both the parents, that what is hers is equally his. I know a father would be greatly displeased if he did not have a say in his own child’s life—as if he himself had no responsibility in the creation of human life whether by will or by unplanned pregnancy, and that ultimately, his opinion on the matter was of little to no importance. It just so happens, that women carry the baby—that's nature—but the presence of the way things simply are as a result of Nature’s workings should not mean the absence of opinion and responsibility of one’s actions on the male’s part.

In continuation of said point, the woman’s justification that, “it’s my body and I have complete say over what comes and goes into and out of it ” may appear quite logical and indisputable at a glance, but under more careful examination, and in arguing about abortion in particular, it is in all actuality quite paradoxical. I suppose the woman then, in cases of consented sex, had “complete say over what comes and goes into and out” of her body in respect to allowing the male to ejaculate inside her, and as a result is now held personally accountable for the pregnancy. Furthermore, when the male then decides to leave her because he finds out she is now pregnant, he is not responsible for the child because “he has no say” over a woman’s decision to keep or abort her child. Ludicrous? Any sensible person would agree, that yes it is. But it is easy to see how the implied context of a statement can easily be flipped to work against it once that statement is recognized as being contradictory. Obviously a man leaving his pregnant female counterpart is a reflection of him evading his own personal responsibilities and obligation to be there for his baby’s birth and watch them grow up. So if he has an indisputable obligation to support his wife in her pregnancy, then he has an indisputable say in the life of his child. Anything contrary to that understanding would support the obviously ridiculous hypothetical situation described above.

Overall and simply put, a life is a life. Once human life is created, that individual has the right to live. They have a right to learn, to grow, to laugh, to play… just like any other child who was given the chance to thrive. Though we may all not achieve greatness, we have the right to try, and with a bit of self-cultivation and some determination we can do just that. Perhaps, all those lives who were never given a chance of their own could have grown into someone exceptionally noteworthy, someone admirable, respectable—a passionate civil rights activist like Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., the world’s brightest scientist who goes on to making an astonishing ground-breaking discovery in the fields of science, medicine, or technology. Perhaps they will flourish into a man or woman of remarkable character like the wise Mahatma Gandhi, or speak kind words of peace and love like Jesus. No great thing is created suddenly, and that’s the truth.

Don’t be the one to say yes to abortion; always remember, adoption is an option, and one couple’s unwanted child may prove to be the ultimate blessing to those who cannot have children of their own.

We only have one life to live here on Earth and one chance to live it. Their life is in your hands.

A life is a life.

A Solemn Poem

Whispering wind is all that’s heard amongst the sleepy land so glum,

As powdered snow falls hastily, like dust of diamonds from the sky,

Contrasting shades of phantom darkness, brought about as dusk grows nigh;

The sealing of a solemn fate, is very soon to come…

It stings her ears with frosty breath, that frigid howling breeze.

Wincing from the biting gusts, at hands grown numb by cold,

She cradles in her tired arms a whimpering child, not that old.

She presses on –that weary girl–for fear that they shall freeze…

Against the sea of snow she wades, though weathered by the squall,

Blackness shrouds the land before her, beneath a somber sky of gray,

She glances upwards in distress, fearing what will come today.

In silent prayer she sloshes forward, holding tight her babe and shawl.

Against time she races incessantly, to escape her surely forlorn fate.

Like creeping specters in the night fatigue and weakness haunt her;

The blustery winds and swirling snow make seeing things a gray-white blur,

But still she stumbles onward, in worry that it’s getting late.

To a crooked tree amidst the wood she stops to rest a while,

Out of breath and beating heart, she slumps down on her knees,

She lays the babe amidst the snow, beneath the twisted tree.

“I’ll close my eyes for just a bit,” she whispered with a smile.

And so, she laid her head down and she gazed up at the moon.

While ice-cold tears of hopelessness streamed softly down her cheeks,

Exhaustion overtook her and she drifted fast asleep,

The powdered snow she made her bed had come to be her icy tomb.

Wrapped up in his tattered rags, the child whimpered in the snow,

To his mother he cried out, but to his rescue no one came,

And near him lay a grim reminder of how his fate is much the same.

Succumbed by sleep, he closed his eyes, and joined his mother’s tale of woe.

Copyright ©2011 Michael Althouse

A Dream to Remember

Some say that dreams are a way in which we become connected with the spirit world. Often we dream of things such as deceased relatives or long lost friends and find ourselves pondering the significance of what appears to be an inexplainable phenomena. Are these people simply just on our mind? Is this an evocation of subconscious thought? Is this all just explainable by an understanding of basic biological and neuroscientific properties of the brain? … or could it just be that some things in life are just meant to go unanswered?

I remember the dream as if it were a part of my everyday reality. It was a beautiful spring day. The great yellow sun sat in the sky bathing the earth in its radiance. A soft breeze gently rolled across the air, providing a pleasing compliment to the mildly warm temperature and the pastel blue horizon. The door to my grandmother’s kitchen was open, and I remember standing at the edge of the kitchen table by the doorway admiring the beautiful weather. I remember at one point taking the time to notice a pair of my grandfather’s old Italian leather boots out on the porch—he always used to wear them. But I often found myself back at the corner of that kitchen table standing there by the open doorway. It would seem as though I was meant to be there for a reason: to see my grandfather. Like an angel emerging from the light of Heaven, I remember he made his entrance from the brightness of the day and walked into the house. It was a comforting feeling seeing him standing there, he looked the same way he did nearly ten years ago before his passing. I knew inside me he had been dead, but I knew that what I was seeing was real, he was there alive and in the flesh. I don’t remember exchanging words with him, I just know that I was happy and I remember living out the rest of the day with him and my other family members with those feelings smiling inside me. And then like the blink of an eye, I was awake.

April 5, 2011 will mark the ten year anniversary of my grandfather’s death. I haven’t found myself thinking about him too much lately, and the last time I dreamt of him was after his death several years ago. Some may search for a perfectly rational, scientific answer to what I experienced, but I have reason to believe that my dream happened because it was meant to be. I believe my grandfather was there in my dream, that he was real, but I still ask myself why is it that he decided to show up now? Did he want to tell me something, to prepare me for some future happening, to comfort me?Or maybe he simply wanted to say hello and let me know that he is always watching over me? Perhaps I will never know the true answer, but I do know that the time I spent with my grandfather then and there inside my dream was precious time, and a moment I will never forget.

Until we meet again, Pop Pop, rest peacefully.

Piecing Together Happiness

What makes us happy? An age old question that today is still trying to be discovered and completely understood. This past school year in college, I took an English course in the spring semester that was very writing intensive. Among the few papers we had to write, the first and probably the most intriguing to me was the one centered around actually trying to determine for ourselves what makes us happy. We read an article from online magazine, the Atlantic, actually titled What Makes Us Happy? by writer Joshua Wolf Shenk, in which he wrote about a specific Harvard case study investigating the key to happiness.

"Is there a formula--some mix of love, work, and psychological adaption--for a good life?" Shenk questioned. Perhaps amidst all the experimentation and critical thinking we are overlooking the true meaning to living happily. Maybe it isn't about trying so hard to find the secret to being happy, maybe it's more about accepting happiness for what it is -- simplicity. Sometimes the simplest things in life can be the hardest to understand. We as humans, with our inquisitive nature, always try to find complexity within simplicity. Maybe we should just take a smile for a smile, a hug for a hug, and love for love, because when it all comes down to it, they are all like intricate little puzzle pieces that each have a place within a much bigger puzzle. Once we have our pieces together, so to say, we can assemble the puzzle and admire the big picture. However, sometimes in life we may lose sight of how important each one of these "puzzle pieces" really is-- it only takes one to make the puzzle incomplete. Once we find out what we're missing, we can, with a sigh of relief, finally realize that our "puzzle" is complete and that we are finally happy.

Link to Joshua Wolf Shenk's Article:

http://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2009/06/what-makes-us-happy/7439/

A Bite Into Remembrance

The York Peppermint Patty, a classic confectionary concoction of wonderfully blissful dark chocolate and a creamy refreshing mint center --without a doubt it remains a favorite in the hearts, or rather, the stomachs of so many people around the world... but is there more to it than just meets the tongue?

Recently, my mom had bought me a Peppermint Patty of my own after I had mentioned how I hadn't had one for quite some time (we're talking years here). I came to find it neatly placed on my computer desk in its shiny silver wrapper, and after thanking her for being so thoughtful, proceeded to eating it, or rather, savoring it... and that I did. However, with every bite my mind became flooded with memories and I became less focused on what is and more focused on what was. It was overwhelming at first yet completely explainable in as little as two words: Sense Memory.

Sense memory is the interaction between senses and memory in which stimuli are received via the senses and evoke memories stored within an individual's brain. For example, you're at a bake sale and you smell someone's freshly baked chocolate chip cookies at one of the baked goods stands, the scent of the cookies then evoke memories of when you used to go over your grand-mom's house as a child and bake chocolate chip cookies of your own with her.

For me, it wasn't about baking chocolate chip cookies with my grand-mom as a kid, but rather how something as simple as eating a Peppermint Patty could bring back so many memories I had of my grand father as a kid. The Peppermint Patty which remained a favorite of his, next to butter creams, evoked memories I held dear to me as a child and even now. From the trips to the local convenience stores for slushees and candy, to him bringing all the grandchildren home chicken fingers from our favorite place, to all the times he'd take the family out to dinner on the house, it was like a huge tidal wave of emotions that finally culminated to its peak and crashed down on me. It reminded me of how much he meant to not only myself but the rest of my family, how much he did for us during his lifetime... and how much he's missed.

In the normal hustle and bustle of everyday life, it's easy to forget to count our blessings and remember the little things. It's important to take the time to pause that busy lifestyle of ours for just a few moments, and to be grateful for and remember everything we have and everyone we love and hold dear to our hearts, because with a blink of an eye it can all be gone. After my little Peppermint Patty experience today, I took the time to remember my grand father and give thanks to him and all he has done for those around him and for those that admired him dearly and proudly looked up to him -- one being myself.

So what I ask in turn is that, who-so-ever reads this blog post think about what you have to be thankful for, and feel free to share your own personal story (if you have one) of how something you experienced evoked memories of your own.