Monday, March 31, 2014

Dying after your time

Should scientists try to help people beat old age so we can live radically longer lives? Why?
     I think, in some cases, over coming certain diseases that elderly people normally have is important. Learning how to treat things like heart diseases, Alzheimer's, or other sicknesses that riddle the elderly community, can advance technology that can save the lives of younger people. 

How long would you want to live, if you could choose your life span? 
     I wouldn't want to live past an age where I can't function like an average person. When I'm elderly I don't want to be cooped up in a hospital room. I want to be able to walk around and live my life to the fullest. 

Do you agree with the author that “adding years to a life doesn’t necessarily make it any fuller?”
     I do agree with the author. Living in a hospital room for the last five years of your life won't make it any better. You may live longer, but you're not spending your time doing things that can benefit your life. 

Sunday, March 9, 2014

This I believe

 “Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away.” A simple piece of art that has hung on the wall of my kitchen for many years has simply become a role model for me. When looking upon my 16 years of life, I can’t remember every exact moment. I remember things that changed my life, even in small ways. 
In ten years I won’t remember what I was doing at this exact moment. When I reminisce about my younger years, it won’t be the Sundays spent cramming in homework that I’ll remember. I'll smile at things like my embarrassing first kiss, the first time I tried a burrito, or the first time I rode a bike. Memorable moments like those will stick out in my mind most.
The first time I understood the piece of art on the wall in my kitchen was when I was about seven. My grandfather always came to stay at my house on Wednesday nights. After school on Thursday, he would take my sister and me to his apartment to walk on the beach and collect shells. After we scavenged the beach for sea glass and other trinkets we would stop at McDonalds or the Portland Public Market to pick up a snack. One day I chose to try the new grape flavored Hubba-Bubba bubble gum. On that specific day as my sister and I were chewing our gum in the back of my grandfather's little white car, she blew a bubble. I remember how amazed by her I was. That day I spent hours attempting to blow a bubble. Finally, as we were pulling into my driveway, I accomplished my goal. I was so excited, that I took the bubble out of my mouth and held it in my hand to show my mother. Being a goofy little kid, I accidentally dropped the gum onto the seat of my grandfather's car; almost immediately the gum stuck. I pulled at it, but there would forever be a bubble-gum-circle on the seat of his car. I remember how embarrassed I was. I walked into the house with my head down, scared that my parents would never allow me to chew gum again. Instead, my grandfather told my mom how long I’d spent trying to blow a bubble. They sat at the kitchen table drinking coffee and laughing.  I watched with amazement that they could take such joy in something as little as me blowing a bubble with my gum. That sign in my kitchen became a reality to me that day. 
I believe that cherishing the small things in life is important. I take every moment as a chance to make a memory. Every opportunity I get, I try to do something that I can look at in ten years and smile.