Freedom of Expression

15 Nov 2017 4 Comments

by Dr. John Persico Jr. in Uncategorized Tags: , , , , , , , , ,

I was walking down the street the other day and I saw three White guys beating the heck out of a Black guy.  The Black guy was down on the ground and the three White guys were taking turns pummeling him.  I rushed up and yelled “Stop, what the heck do you guys think you are doing.”  One of the White guys answered “what does it look like, we are beating the shit out of a Black guy.”  “What did he do”, I asked.   “What do you mean what did he do?  “He was being Black” came back the reply.

“Are you guy’s crazy?  You can’t just beat someone up for being Black.”   I retorted.

i-dont-give-a-fuck

The three guys huddled for a minute and finally one of the three (A guy with bright red hair and lots of tattoos) came out of the huddle and took me by the shoulder.  “Look he said, you look like a fairly intelligent guy.”  Two of my friends over there never went to college.  I went for a few years so they nominated me to talk to you. “

“What is there to talk about?  You have no right no beat up on this poor man”, I answered.

“Aahh, that is where you are wrong” said Tattoo Guy.  “We have every right.  In fact, we have a constitutional right to beat him up.”

“Are you serious or trying to kid me, I ask.”

“No I am not kidding” said Tattoo Guy, “I am very serious. It is our constitutional right.”

“OK,” I say, “I will bite, what is the right you think you have?”

“Well” says Tattoo Guy, “have you ever heard of ‘Freedom of Expression.’  The constitution struthays every American citizen has Freedom of Expression.  Thus, we are just expressing our free rights as American citizens to beat up on people we don’t like.”

“I am not sure that is what the Founding Fathers meant by Freedom of Expression”, I answer.

“Well, frankly we don’t give a fuck what you think.  Furthermore, if you keep interfering we might just sue you for violating our constitutional rights.”

“Hold on now.  I thought we were having a friendly conversation here.  Now you are threatening to sue me.  On what grounds?” I ask.

I could see Tattoo Guy thinking about my question for a while and then he answered “Well, since you are being so polite about it, we won’t sue you, at least not for now.”

“Wow, thanks” said I.

trump-and-pc“Look, said Tattoo Guy, we voted for Donald Trump and he respects our Freedom of Expression rights.  We are sick and tired of the PC shit you pussies and commies have been spreading in this country for years.  We are tired of watching what we say and do because we might be called rednecks or bigots or even racists.  It’s a new day for America.  We are going to make our country great again.”

“With Donald Trump as president, I can call anyone I want a nigger, kike, frog, wop, dago, spook, wetback, cunt, fag, pussy, greaser, Jap, slope.  It’s my Freedom of Expression” says Tattoo Guy.

“So basically you were sick and tired of having your Freedom of Expression curtailed by anti-hate laws and people who are sick of being insulted because of their color or sex” I asked?

freedom-of-expression“You are more or less on the right track” says Tattoo Guy.  “Used to be you could tell some nigger jokes, put up pinups of nude girls, even grab a few pussies once in a while and no one bothered you.  Then, all this PC stuff started and before you knew it, you had to watch what you said and did.  A White person’s Freedom of Expression went down the drain.  Well, no more PC now.  So can we please get back to beating the shit out of this nigger?”

“What about this man’s Freedom of Expression” I ask.  “Don’t you think he also has some rights?”

“Sure” says Tattoo Guy, “He can say whatever he thinks.  We don’t care.  Just as long as he doesn’t call us rednecks or bigots or racists.”

“That sounds like a double standard” I answer.

“I don’t think so.  You intellectuals think too much.  You need to do more and think less” says Tattoo Guy.

einstein“Well, what if I told you that I had a Glock Model 40 10mm in my pocket and that if you hit this man one more time, I will take it and blow your fucking brains out.  What would you think of that” I replied indignantly.

“That changes the entire nature of our issue here” says Tattoo Guy.  “We respect your Second Amendment rights to own and bear arms and use them in defense of your country and family.  May I ask if this Black Guy is part of your family?”

“Haven’t you ever heard of John Donne” I asks?  “Donne says”:

No man is an island entire of itself; every man

is a piece of the continent, a part of the main;

if a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe

is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as

well as any manner of thy friends or of thine

own were; any man’s death diminishes me,

because I am involved in mankind.

And therefore never send to know for whom

the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.

“So you are sort of saying that this Black guy here is part of your extended family?” asks Tattoo Guy.

“Exactly,” I reply.

freedom-of-thought

“Well, that’s a horse of a different color then.  If you are related to us because you are White and we are White and he is related to you, even if he is Black, then he is also related to us, which means he is part of our family too.  That’s great, now we have a new brother.  How about if we all go get a beer together?” says Tattoo Guy.

“Sounds like a better idea than beating each other up or my blowing your brains out.  Do you know any good brew pubs?  First round on me” I reply.

Time for Questions:

 Do you think all such stories as mine have a “happy” ending?  What rights do people have not to be insulted or harassed because of their color or sex?  Do you think some rights might supersede other rights?  Why or why not?

Life is just beginning.

Freedom of speech does not include the right:

  • To incite actions that would harm others (e.g., “[Shouting] ‘fire’ in a crowded theater.”).
    Schenck v. United States, 249 U.S. 47 (1919).
  • To make or distribute obscene materials.
    Roth v. United States, 354 U.S. 476 (1957).
  • To burn draft cards as an anti-war protest.
    United States v. O’Brien, 391 U.S. 367 (1968).
  • To permit students to print articles in a school newspaper over the objections of the school administration. 
    Hazelwood School District v. Kuhlmeier, 484 U.S. 260 (1988).
  • Of students to make an obscene speech at a school-sponsored event.
    Bethel School District #43 v. Fraser, 478 U.S. 675 (1986).
  • Of students to advocate illegal drug use at a school-sponsored event.
    Morse v. Frederick, __ U.S. __ (2007).

Freedom of speech does includes the right:

  • Not to speak (specifically, the right not to salute the flag).
    West Virginia Board of Education v. Barnette, 319 U.S. 624 (1943).
  • Of students to wear black armbands to school to protest a war (“Students do not shed their constitutional rights at the schoolhouse gate.”).
    Tinker v. Des Moines, 393 U.S. 503 (1969).
  • To use certain offensive words and phrases to convey political messages.
    Cohen v. California, 403 U.S. 15 (1971).
  • To contribute money (under certain circumstances) to political campaigns.
    Buckley v. Valeo, 424 U.S. 1 (1976).
  • To advertise commercial products and professional services (with some restrictions).
    Virginia Board of Pharmacy v. Virginia Consumer Council, 425 U.S. 748 (1976); Bates v. State Bar of Arizona, 433 U.S. 350 (1977).
  • To engage in symbolic speech, (e.g., burning the flag in protest).
    Texas v. Johnson, 491 U.S. 397 (1989); United States v. Eichman, 496 U.S. 310 (1990).

 

 

 

To Care or Not To Care? That is the Real Question.

03 Nov 2017 6 Comments

by Dr. John Persico Jr. in Uncategorized

In 1979, I was hired by Sister M. Giovanni SSND of the School Sisters of Notre Dame to teach at Guadalupe Area Project (GAP).  This was an alternative high school for kids who had been kicked out of the public school system.  I had gone back to school in 1971 after four years in the military and decided to get a teaching degree in Health Education.  I had just barely finished High School in 1964 and joined the Air Force in September of 64.  I had applied to a few colleges at the end of high school but due to my poor grades and even poorer conduct record, I did not even get rejection notices.  Thus, liking the Air Force uniform better than the Army or Navy uniforms, I joined the Air Force, hoping to see the world, kill some commies and “meet” a lot of interesting women.  I did not get much of the first two agendas but I did prove more successful at the third one.  Lots more successful than I had been in high school!  Was it the uniform or that I was coming from a “strange” land?

Upon leaving the military, much more disillusioned than when I had entered, I worked an assortment of odd jobs for three years until finally my first wife convinced me to go to college. She evidently believed in me more than I believed in myself or was tired of my complaining about all the stupid assholes I was working for.  Going to college might sound easy but with my abysmal high school record, getting in was easier said than done.  Fortunately, a kindly guidance counselor at my old high school said he would tell anyone requesting my records that they had been lost.  He opined that admissions people seeing my school records would not think I was anything less than “correctional” material.  In fact, I had been arrested a few times before turning 18 but most of this was not valid any longer since they were juvenile records.

Five years later, 1976, I emerged from Rhode Island College with a degree in Health Education.  After spending a year as a substitute teacher, I lost most of my desire to teach.  With the GI Bill being extended, I decided to enroll in a Master’s Degree program at the University of Wisconsin-Stout in Counseling Psychology.  Talk about the old adage of psych majors being screwed up.  I needed more counseling than any potential clients.  I started sending out applications for a job in counseling and received a letter from Sister M. Giovanni SSND that she was interested in my application.

I called Sister G (as she was affectionately known to one and all) and set-up an interview with her.  I was shocked and surprised when I found out that she was looking for a “teacher.” I explained that I was not interested in teaching but was interested in counseling.  Sister G. replied “Don’t worry; you will get lots of practice counseling with the students we have at GAP.”  I then said “Look Sister G. I am not a Catholic, I am an Atheist.”  She looked very serious at me and said: “I don’t care what your political or spiritual beliefs are as long as you are a good teacher.”  I was hooked.  I agreed to teach at GAP and stayed there for one year.

It was one of the most memorable experiences I have had in my life.  GAP teachers, volunteers, parents and students were all unique and dedicated. Maybe not all dedicated to learning but all dedicated to getting more out of life.  One of the best teachers was the art teacher named Sister Anna Louise Wilson.  She was a good teacher, devoted to her profession and devoted to her students.  One day after I had decided to leave, I took a short walk with Sister Anna.  I never quite felt that I had the impact or influence on the student’s lives that I would have liked to have.  I knew that Sister Anna did and I admired her for it.  I asked her “What does it take to really make a difference in their lives?”  She replied “you have to care.”

I thought about her comment then and I realized that I did not care.  I cared about the subjects I was teaching.  I cared about being professional.  I cared about continuous learning and I cared about mastering the craft of an educator.   What I did not care about was what happened to my students after they left school.  As far as I was concerned, that was their problem.  My task was to give them the knowledge, skills and abilities to fit in with a changing complex workplace.  Many years went by and countless times I have reflected on Sister Anna’s comment about caring.  I finally understand its relevance and importance.

Who makes a difference in anyone’s life? Do you care about the Nobel Prize winners, Pulitzer Prize winners or 20 greatest geniuses the world has ever known?  How many of them can you name?  But the people that cared about you are the ones you remember.  They are the ones who made a true difference in your life.  Caring is perhaps the most underrated and undervalued trait in the world.  Whether in politics, education or the workplace, the people that care are the ones that truly make a difference.  The concept is so important, you would think we would have academies of caring or schools where caring could be taught.  What does it mean to care?  Why care? What is caring?

“Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better. It’s not.” — Theodor Seuss Geisel (1904-1991);

When you care about something, you are taking a risk.  A risk that any expectations you have will not be returned.  A risk that the subject of your caring may not reciprocate.  A risk that your caring will result in disappointment or worse.  The subject of your caring is independent of your caring.  A hard reality is that caring opens the care giver to pain.  We would rather minimize the potential pains in our lives and so we develop some strict rules about whom we are willing to care for and when we are willing to care.  For instance, how often have you heard the phrase used “I couldn’t care less?”  Many of us have been burned once too often by “caring” and so we shrink our envelopes of caring until we have little potential to care.  I never saw a reason to care about my students because I was not really willing to risk the effort.  Even if I had realized that I needed to be more caring to make a difference in their lives, my self-protection envelope would have prevented me from trying.

Now I am older, sadder and perhaps wiser, or at least wise enough to understand the need for caring.  Whether in a nursing home, school, hospital or at work, caring is one of the most desired attributes we would like to obtain for ourselves.  The question is “how can we get more caring in this world, if we are not willing to give it?”  Everyone wants caring in their lives but we are much less prone to offer it to others.  The parable of the Good Samaritan comes repeatedly to my mind.

Time for Questions:

Who is our neighbor?  Who do we care about?  Do we only care about people who are just like us or do we care about those who belong to a different social class or religion or ethnic group or even another country?  Do we only care about our relatives and friends or do we extend our caring to strangers or others in need?  How do we develop more caring in our neighborhood and in our world?

Life is just beginning

A Friend Is?

16 Sep 2017 1 Comment

by Dr. John Persico Jr. in Uncategorized

I think friendships have become somewhat ephemeral and fleeting these days.  You may have 2,000 Facebook friends, but how many are “real” friends.  Perhaps it is time we reconsider what a true friend really is. 

A Friend Is:

  • Someone whom you can trust
  • Someone who trusts you
  • Someone who respects you
  • Someone whom you respect
  • Someone whom you like
  • Someone who is there when you need them
  • Someone who is there even when there is no need
  • Someone who will lend you money
  • Someone who will lend you things
  • Someone who is loyal
  • Someone whom you like to be with
  • Someone who spends time with you
  • Someone whom you can share problems with
  • Someone who listens to your opinion
  • Someone whose opinion you listen to
  • Someone who cares about you
  • Someone whom you care about
  • Someone whom you can share intimacies with
  • Someone who shares intimacies with you
  • Someone who lifts you up rather than puts you down

In the comments section following, I would love to hear what a “Friend Is” to you.  Please post your ideas on friendship.  Feel free to share this blog with others. 

Time for Questions:

What does friendship mean to you?  Who are your best friends?  Why?  How do you develop and keep a good friend?

Life is Just Beginning.

“It is one of the blessings of old friends that you can afford to be stupid with them.” — Ralph Waldo Emerson

“I would rather walk with a friend in the dark, than alone in the light.”   — Helen Keller

“What is a friend? A single soul dwelling in two bodies.”   ― Aristotle

Autobiographies from the Dead – Josh the Teenager

11 Sep 2017 Leave a comment

by Dr. John Persico Jr. in Uncategorized

Another one of my blogs from a few years ago. This was a series I did based on dead people talking from the grave. Josh is a teenager who took his own life. I think we all know some kids who have tried or succeeded. Maybe my story will shed some light on their motivations or at least help us consider them more. There are many teenage suicides in this country every year.

Dr. John Persico Jr.'s avatarAging Capriciously

Each semester the Graphics Multi-Media Students select a global issue that is meaningful to them and then create a logo and infographic about their issue. Each semester the Graphics Multi-Media Students select a global issue that is meaningful to them and then create a logo and infographic about their issue.

For the next several weeks, my blogs are going to consist of “autobiographies” written by some very special people.  They have one thing in common.  They are all dead.  Some have a burial place and some were simply discarded like pieces of trash.  Their stories will be told by the deceased themselves.  They cry out from the fields, rivers and graveyards to speak.  I have heard their cries.  They want me to tell their stories to you.  They want you to know what their living and dying was for.  This week, Josh will tell you the story of his life and death.

Josh the Teenager

teen suicide by hangingThey are sorry now!  They are all weeping and crying.  They care more about me now that I am dead…

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Autobiographies from the Dead – Cindy the Wife

05 Sep 2017 Leave a comment

by Dr. John Persico Jr. in Uncategorized

I am reposting a set of blogs that I did two years ago.

Dr. John Persico Jr.'s avatarAging Capriciously

For the next several weeks, my blogs are going to consist of “autobiographies” written by some very special people.  They have one thing in common.  They are all dead.  Some have a burial place and some were simply discarded like pieces of trash.  Their stories will be told by the deceased themselves.  They cry out from the fields, rivers and graveyards to speak.  I have heard their cries.  They want me to tell their stories to you.  They want you to know what their living and dying was for.  This week, Cindy will tell you the story of her life and death.

Cindy the Wife

beatenHe beat me.  He beat me.  He beat me.  I hurt so badly from the pain.  But the physical pain was nothing compared to the emotional pain.  I loved him.  Why did he hurt me?  He kept on beating me.  Finally, I yelled for him…

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The Window

20 Aug 2017 14 Comments

by Dr. John Persico Jr. in Uncategorized Tags: , , , , , , ,

wndow in nursing home

I’m sitting here looking out the window.  It has taken me nearly sixty-five years but now I understand.

New-Nurses-Survival-GuideI was only twenty-five when I met Irene.  It was my first job out of college.  I had just finished my RN program at Regina Nursing School.  It took me three years going to school days and working part-time evenings to complete my degree.  After finishing school, I applied at several nursing homes since I wanted to work with the elderly.  In three weeks, I was hired by the River Birch nursing home in New Prague Minnesota.

nurse-tutoringMy first day on the job was the high point and perhaps also the low point of my life.  It was the day I met Irene.  My supervisor Michelle started my job orientation by introducing me to the staff I would be working with.  She then gave me a brief summary of my work duties.  She explained that I would be assigned a wing of the nursing home and within that wing, I would be in charge of a specific number of residents.  We were not to call them patients.  Each day, my job would be to take care of the residents that I was assigned and to ensure that they received food, care and compassion.

nurse with patient

Michele then took me around to the twenty or so residents that I would be responsible for.  One by one, she gave me a brief bio and medical review for each person.  The last one of my charges was Irene.  Michele said that she had saved Irene for last because she would be my most difficult resident.

Irene had been taken into the home about two months prior to my arrival.  She appeared to have an advanced case of Alzheimers disease (which sixty-five years ago was not identified as such.)  She had been living with her only daughter for the past five years but her daughter had died in a car accident and Irene had no other surviving relatives.  Her mother, father and two sisters had died many years before her and no other family members could be located.  Social Services selected the River Birch nursing home due to its proximity to her previous home.

Elderly-woman-in-wheelchair-looking-out-of-window-with-blinds

Michele cautioned me that I should not spend too much time with Irene.  She did not speak much except to demand being taken in her wheel chair to the same window each day.  She would sit and look out the window and was not interested in eating, talking or socializing in any form.  Several of the other nurses had tried to form some type of communication with Irene, but all she would ever say was “window, window.”  Most thought she was simply unfriendly and had stopped spending any time with her.

I was young and naïve.  I thought I could surely reach out to Irene and form some type of bridge which would unite us as human beings.  Irene would be my project.  We would become friends.

Each day, I made a special point of taking Irene to her window and stopping by a few times of the day to simply chat.  I would bring her a cookie in the morning during the coffee break time and one after lunch during mid-afternoon coffee break.  Irene would never take the cookie or even bother to look at me.  She simply stared out the window.

windows-AOver time, I began to wonder what she was looking at.  After looking out the window myself, all I could see was a large grassy field surrounded by numerous oak, maple and birch trees. On any given day, there might some grackles or robins out in the field but very little else to view.  It was a pleasant enough scene but nothing that I thought could keep anyone’s attention for more than a few minutes never mind several hours of staring out the window

On the other side of the large sitting room, there was another picture window.  I noticed that it had a pretty view of a large lake and periodically several sail boats with brightly covered jibs and mains blowing in the wind would be traversing the lake.  I thought that perhaps Irene might like this view better. I walked over to where her sit was sitting in her wheel chair and told her that I was going to show her recalcitrant patienta very pretty view that she could look out at.  I thought she would enjoy the variety and the change of scenery.  As I started to push Irene’s wheel chair away from her chosen window, she became very agitated and started pointing wildly and in a raised voice saying “window, window.”  I moved her back to the old window and left her for the day.

Weeks went by and there was never any change in Irene.  Then one day, I went over to see how Irene was doing and I brought her a cookie just in case she had changed her mind.  I never gave up on somehow connecting with Irene and I thought surely the cookie would be my entre.  Much to my surprise, she took the cookie from my hand and replied, “Thank you, they’re coming, they’re coming.”  I looked out the window but I did not see anyone.  I asked, “Irene dear, who is coming?”  Irene answered, “Why mom and dad and my sisters.”  Poor thing I thought, she is delusional.

empty chairNext morning, I came to work and started my rounds.  I did not see Irene and I wondered where she was.  I checked her room but the bed was made up and there was no sign of Irene.  I went into see my supervisor and ask about her.  “I am sorry” Michele said “She passed away last night and was taken to the funeral home.  There will be no services for her as she had no surviving relatives.”  I went home and cried for her passing.  I had never understood her or made a connection with her that I thought was the least bit meaningful.

little girl looking out the windowIt is sixty-five years later and I finally understand Irene.  I am sitting here looking out a window from the nursing home where I am now a resident.  Each day I look out the same window and I see a different event from my life.  I have been amazed at the events that I have witnessed.  I have seen my mother giving birth to me.  I have seen the birth of each of my sisters and brothers.  I witnessed my first communion and my first day in school.  I watched my wedding and the birth of each of my children.  I was at my husband’s funeral again.  During the past few months, I have seen all the major events of my life one after the other in perfect chronological order.  I am almost at the end of my journey.  There is only one final event.  The last event will be when they come for me.  They are getting close.  My mom and dad are coming for me.  They are coming to take me home.  I must keep looking out the window or I will miss them.

Time for Questions:

How do we deal with the loss of a loved one when they are still alive?  What connections can we possibly make to bridge the sometimes-unbridgeable gaps that age has a way of creating? What if our loved ones are still with us even when we may think they are not?  How do we have compassion for people who no longer seem to know or care about us?

Life is just beginning.

“What would I have wanted to say if I had had the opportunity to see him one more time? I would like to think that I would have kept it simple and said, “I love you,” then just held his hand in silence, letting that thought linger in the space of the time we had left together.”
― Lisa J. Shultz, A Chance to Say Goodbye: Reflections on Losing a Parent

Post Script:  June 17th 2025

I wrote the above story eight years ago when I had just turned 70.  I am now 78 and with each passing day the story seems more relevant to me.  Many of my friends and relatives have either passed away or succumbed to some form of dementia.  I had never realized how many types of dementia there was until I went to a caregivers conference a few years ago.  A friend posted the following on Facebook and it really moved me.  We spend years living with someone and perhaps someday we will say that, “they are gone.”  That the person we once loved is no longer there.  I have heard this comment many times.  I hope that I never have to deal with this but if I do, I want to remember the following suggestions:

20 Things I Would Want If I Got Dementia – by Rachel Wonderlin

If I get dementia, I’d like my family to hang this wish list up on the wall where I live. I want them to remember these things. The original list was also published in my book, “When Someone You Know is Living in a Dementia Care Community.”

If I get dementia, I want my friends and family to embrace my reality. If I think my spouse is still alive, or if I think we’re visiting my parents for dinner, let me believe those things. I’ll be much happier for it.

If I get dementia, don’t argue with me about what is true for me versus what is true for you.

If I get dementia, and I am not sure who you are, do not take it personally. My timeline is confusing to me.

If I get dementia, and can no longer use utensils, do not start feeding me. Instead, switch me to a finger-food diet, and see if I can still feed myself.

If I get dementia, and I am sad or anxious, hold my hand and listen. Do not tell me that my feelings are unfounded.

If I get dementia, I don’t want to be treated like a child. Talk to me like the adult that I am.

If I get dementia, I still want to enjoy the things that I’ve always enjoyed. Help me find a way to exercise, read, and visit with friends.

If I get dementia, ask me to tell you a story from my past.

If I get dementia, and I become agitated, take the time to figure out what is bothering me.

If I get dementia, treat me the way that you would want to be treated.

If I get dementia, make sure that there are plenty of snacks for me in the house. Even now if I don’t eat I get angry, and if I have dementia, I may have trouble explaining what I need.

If I get dementia, don’t talk about me as if I’m not in the room.

If I get dementia, don’t feel guilty if you cannot care for me 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. It’s not your fault, and you’ve done your best. Find someone who can help you, or choose a great new place for me to live.

If I get dementia, and I live in a dementia care community, please visit me often.

If I get dementia, don’t act frustrated if I mix up names, events, or places. Take a deep breath. It’s not my fault.

If I get dementia, make sure I always have my favorite music playing within earshot.

If I get dementia, and I like to pick up items and carry them around, help me return those items to their original places.

If I get dementia, don’t exclude me from parties and family gatherings.

If I get dementia, know that I still like receiving hugs or handshakes.

If I get dementia, remember that I am still the person you know and love.

The True Story of the Three Little Pigs:  Well, Not So Little!

13 Aug 2017 6 Comments

by Dr. John Persico Jr. in Uncategorized Tags: , , , , , , , , , , ,

pigs and wolf

This is the true story of the three little pigs.  Actually, they were not so little at all.  Each of the three pigs weighed at least 400 pounds but that is about average for a real pig.  Now we all know that pigs are very smart and these three were no exception.  Joanne, the youngest had a Ph.D. degree in physics.  Paul, the middle in age had a Ph.D. in world literature and Jayla, the oldest sibling had a Ph.D. degree in philosophy.

866_Three_Little-Pigs (2)

They lived in a beautiful neighborhood and each of them was smart enough not to build their houses with straw or wood.  All had sturdy brick houses that no wolf in the world would have been able to blow down.  Nevertheless, the mean old wolf who lived one block over was always plotting on how he could eat the three “not so little” pigs.

One day the wolf, whose name was Jack, was searching the internet for ways to trap pigs.  He was spending quite some time on Facebook and LinkedIn to search for personal information on Joanne, Paul and Jayla.  He believed that the more he learned about the personal habits of each pig, the more chance he would have to catch them.  The internet was very helpful in his efforts.  He noticed that each of the three pigs loved to play on-line puzzles and word games.  He found that they seldom lost a contest with any other on-line gamers.  They won so many games that they had become very conceited about their intellectual prowess.  This gave Jack an idea.

wolf

Jack thought he could create an intellectual challenge for each pig.  He would trap them when they lost the challenge.  First, he would need to create a fake internet persona and a fake game site.  He had just the idea that he thought would work.  He would call himself “Jack the king of online gaming pigs.”  This arrogance would be sure to annoy the conceited pigs.  He would then issue on on-line challenge but he would only accept the challenge from the three pigs.

He would bet each of them that they could not correctly answer three of his questions.  If they did get all three right, he would work for them for a week for free.  If they missed any one question, they would have to work for him for a week for free.  Of course, when they came to his house to work for him, he would grab each pig and eat them.

wolf eating the pig

A week later, Jack had set up his website and a picture of him that showed a large handsome looking male pig.  His banner had all sorts of pictures of gold coins, silver coins, jewels, exotic cars and exotic locations.  Right in the middle of the banner was the large words “Jack, King of On-Line Gaming Pigs.”  To the right side of the page was the picture of a large flashing gold treasure chest.   Inside the chest, were the words printed in bright colors: “I challenge you.  I know more than you do about anything.  Click on to accept my challenge.”

social networking pigs

Upon clicking on the treasure box, the description of the challenge and the rewards were printed.  It was stated very clearly that the challenger would have the right to select the subject matter.  Jack felt that this latter stipulation would insure that the bait would be taken since each pig would be sure to think that no one could be smarter than they were in their specialized area of expertise.  Jayla would no doubt select questions on philosophy while Paul would select questions on world literature and Joanne would select questions on physics.

Joanne was the first one of the three pigs to notice the online challenge.  “What”, she thought, “Who is this arrogant joker that thinks he is so smart.  I will show him.”  She sent back a message which said “I accept your challenge.  The subject is physics.  Send me your questions.”

Jack sent the following questions.  Each question had to be difficult so as not to arouse suspicion but not too difficult.  At least, until the third question.

First Question:  Do heavier objects fall more slowly than lighter objects?”

Joanne’s Answer:  No. If an object is heavier the force of gravity is greater, but since it has greater mass the acceleration is the same, so it moves at the same speed.

Second Question:  What is the difference between energy and power?

Joanne’s Answer:  Power is the rate of energy being generated or consumed.

“Well,” said Jack “you have been correct on the first two questions.”  Now thought Jack, I will give her the most difficult and impossible question to answer since my thought question is a paradox.

Third Question:  We place a living cat into a steel chamber, along with a device containing a vial of hydrocyanic acid. There is, in the chamber, a very small amount of hydrocyanic acid, a radioactive substance. If even a single atom of the substance decays during the test period, a relay mechanism will trip a hammer, which will, in turn, break the vial and kill the cat. Is the cat dead or alive?

Joanne’s Answer:  That’s not fair because it is a paradoxical question.  According to quantum theory, the cat is both alive and dead until I open the box and look.  You cannot know which state the cat is in without opening the box.

Jack’s Reply:  Well, you agreed to the questions and now you must work for me for a week.

Well, Joanne thought, he’s not such a bad looking pig so maybe it will be fun.

She went to the address that Jack gave and knocked on the door.  Just as soon as Jack opened the door he pounced on poor Joanne and in a few bites entirely gobbled her up.

Next to reply to Jack’s challenge was Paul.  Jack had changed the picture on his web site and now presented himself as a young very attractive looking female pig.  He changed his internet name to Jacqueline.  Paul saw the picture and even without the challenge was rather intrigued by the picture of Jacqueline.  Paul replied to Jacqueline’s challenge and requested world literature as the subject for his three questions.

First Question:  Who wrote the book “The Importance of Living”?

Paul’s Answer:  That’s easy.  It was Lin Yutang

Second Question:  How many lines does a Shakespearean sonnet have?

Paul’s Answer:  Another easy one.  It has 14 lines.

Now thought Jack for the paradox question.  Paul thinks he is so smart.  I can hardly wait to have more roast pork for dinner.

Third Question:  This sentence is not a paradox. – True or false

Paul’s Answer:  There is no way I can answer that question.  First, the sentence cannot be false. If it were false, then it would not be a paradox, since any sentence that is a paradox must be true.  But it says that it is not a paradox, so this would mean that what it says is the case, and hence it would be true.  This is a contradiction.

Jack’s Reply:  Well, you played the game and you could not answer all three questions.  So you lost.  When do you want to come over to my house and start working?

Paul thought, well Jacqueline looks pretty cute and I would like to meet her anyway and so he replied “How about I come over to your place tonight and we have dinner together.”

Jack replied “Great, I love the idea.  I will make a wonderful meal for us together.”

That was the last that anyone saw of Jack the pig with a Ph.D. in world literature.

Two more weeks went by and Jack changed his website back to a picture with a handsome young male pig with his own name of Jack.  He felt sure that with the challenge and the picture of a good-looking pig, he would soon entice Jayla to take up the challenge.

Now Jayla had not seen her siblings for the past four weeks.  She knew that they loved to play on-line games and she had not seen them around any of the usual game sites.  She surfed the web each day but could not find any games they were playing.  It appeared that the last game any of them played was at the site of some arrogant guy who billed himself as the King of On-line Gaming Pigs.  Her web skills showed her that both of her siblings had accepted his challenge.  She pondered the coincidence that since accepting the challenge, she had not seen either sibling again.  This raised some suspicions in her mind.  Nevertheless, she decided to accept the challenge but with a bit of caution.   She posted her acceptance on the website and stated her chosen subject field as philosophy.

SmartPIG

Jack was overjoyed.  He loved roast pig and was ready for his third pig of the year.  He would be very cautious and not try to tip his hand so he researched his three questions very carefully.  He was quite sure that the third one would be unanswerable.

First Question:  Do states have moral authority over their citizens?

Jayla’s Answer:  Only over those citizens who make an uncoerced decision to give that authority to their state, which I think is almost never. 

Jack Replies:  Ok, I will concede that one to you. 

Second Question:  Plato’s definition of knowledge was?

Jayla’s Answer:  Justified true belief.

Jayla had gotten the first two right but Jack was now ready to spring the paradoxical question on her.  There was no way she could get the right answer.

Suddenly, Jack noticed a text that appeared on his computer screen.  Jayla was requesting a short break before the next question.  Jack could not believe his eyes.  Jayla suggested that Jack come over to her house tomorrow night for dinner and bring the third question with him.  This was too good to be true.  He would get a free dinner before he ate his third pig.  He agreed and Jayla texted him her home address.

Now, if you know anything about philosophy, you know that it means the love of wisdom.  Jayla, was the wisest of the three pigs and she had prepared for the unexpected.  Jack the wolf came dressed up in a pig disguise but Jayla saw right through it.  She was not entirely surprised since she had long suspected some treachery was involved.  She invited Jack in.

“Jack,” said Jayla, “can I give you a drink before dinner?”

“Sure” replied Jack.  Jack thought he might as well eat a free meal before he ate Jayla.

Jayla, knowing full well that Jack was a wolf disguised as a pig prepared him a special martini mixed with some knock out drops.  Jack would not know what hit him.

Jack took the drink thinking all the time that this was too good to be true.  The next thing Jack knew he was waking up with a splitting headache.  As he tried to move his muscles, he found that he was tied by all four legs to a sturdy oak chair.  Jayla stood over him with a baseball bat.

We have now come to a tricky point in my story.  We have two dilemmas to solve before we can reach a conclusion.  The first problem is how do we bring Jayla’s two siblings back?  We know the wolf ate both but that is beside the point.  We can’t have a fairy tale where two siblings get eaten and do not return.  It’s just not done.

The second problem is what do we do with the big bad wolf?  Do we kill him, let him go, castrate him or what?  We need to have some type of fitting denouement for Jack the wolf.  Again, since this is a fairy tale, we probably need to rule out killing him or castration but I don’t think we can just let him go.  Not much drama in that anyway.  Well, let’s tackle first problems first.  We will start with getting Jayla’s two siblings back.

Jayla took the bat and whacked the big bad wolf right in the stomach.  Lo and behold, the wolf gave a big burp and out popped Paul.  One more smack to the stomach and out popped Joanne.  The siblings were all so happy to see each other and Jayla that they hugged and hugged for a mighty long time.

Ok, so they were eaten.  It’s a fairy tale and I can do anything as implausible as I desire.  I mean you did not complain when a wolf ate a 400-pound pig, so don’t start nitpicking now. 

Once pleasantries were over, the three pigs sat down to discuss the fate of Jack the big bad wolf.  Paul wanted to cut him into many pieces and scatter him all over the neighborhood.  Joanne wanted to skin him alive and use his fur for a rug.  Jayla cautioned restraint.  “Remember”, she said “This is a fairy tale and we can’t do any such gruesome things to the big bad wolf in a fairy tale.”  Jayla suggested that they all do an internet search and see what kinds of options for dealing with pig eating wolfs they might find.  They would each Google some strategies and then discuss ideas.

A few hours went by and both Paul and Joanne each came up with an idea.  Jayla was still undecided and had not found any that really thrilled her.  Paul suggested that they put Jack in a box and ship him to Antarctica.  Joanne thought that maybe through behavioral modification they could convince Jack that he did not want to eat a pig.  Jayla thought both ideas were not a fitting end to a good fairy tale.  She then had a brainstorm.  We will have a contest.  Here is Jayla’s idea.  Our readers will help us find a fitting conclusion to this story.

Everyone who reads this story is invited to suggest a conclusion.  We need you to take a few minutes to think of what the three pigs can do with Jack the big bad wolf so that we will have a fitting end to this tale.  Put your idea or ideas for an ending in the comments section.  The three “not so little” pigs will select their favorite reader suggested idea.  If your idea for an ending is selected you will win twenty-five US dollars.

If you submit an idea, be sure to include your name, address and/or PayPal box number.  We will send you a check or deposit the money in your PayPal account. 

We look forward to getting your ideas as to what we should do with Jack, the big bad wolf.  We cannot keep him tied up forever, so please write soon.

Time for Questions:

What will we do with the big bad wolf?  Do you remember how this story ended in the original version?  Do you like fairy tales?  Why or why not?  What is the point of a fairy tale?  Is there a point to this story?  What is it?

Life is just beginning.

“If you happen to read fairy tales, you will observe that one idea runs from one end of them to the other–the idea that peace and happiness can only exist on some condition.  This idea, which is the core of ethics, is the core of the nursery-tales.”  ― G.K. Chesterton

 

The Six Most Significant Events in My Life

07 Aug 2017 2 Comments

by Dr. John Persico Jr. in Uncategorized Tags: , , , ,

This year marked my 34th retreat at the Demontreville Retreat House in Lake Elmo, Minnesota.  One of our assignments during the retreat this year was to list the six most life changing events in our lives.   I completed the assignment as directed. 

Three weeks later at my weekly writers’ class, I remarked on this retreat activity to our writing instructor.  Dr. Carolyn Wedin (our writing instructor) thought it would make a great writing exercise.  She suggested that we do a 50-word summary of each of the six most significant events in our lives and bring them to class. 

Following are my results for this assignment.  If you want to make any comments, I would love to hear what your “most life changing” events were.  Please feel free to share yours or any comments you may have about this activity.

Enlisted in the Military in 1964

You’re in the army now, you’re not behind the plow.  You will never get rich by digging a ditch, you’re in the army now.

Snuck out at 3 AM in the morning to go to the recruiting station.  Who has the best-looking uniforms?  USAF here I come.  Can I fly a jet?

Who’s that knocking on my barracks door?

Good friends steal softly in my barracks room at 1 AM.  “John, we are going to rob the BX and go to Mexico.  Come with us.  It will be a blast.”  Six months later, I am testifying at their court martial trial.  Jail and dishonorable discharge awaits.  Glad I did not go.

Only Child Born

Never thought I would be a father, but that is what happens to people ignorant of birth control.  On April 19, 1968, my daughter Christina was born.  Blond and blue eyed, she looked like her mother.  Have not heard from her for fifteen years now.  I still love her.

College Here I come

Trouble maker in high school.   No college wants me.  No money anyway.  Two years after my military service, I am accepted into a college thanks to a HS counselor who helpfully lost my school records.  I work nights and go to school days.  I later earn a Masters and Doctorate.

My Dream Job

Can’t believe they are paying me to do this.  I would gladly pay them.  Finished my Ph.D. and started work one week later at PMI.  The fit was perfect.  Training and consulting were my best skills and I loved every minute of the challenges they offered.

Marriage the Second Time Around

Did not notice her when we were introduced the first time.  Fell in love with her smile, but it took her perseverance to seal the deal.  Cannot imagine marrying anyone else now.  Second marriage is a winner.  We will grow old together, what could be better.

Time for Questions:

What are your six most life changing events?  How have they changed or impacted your life?  What if they had not happened?

Life is just beginning.

“That which causes us trials shall yield us triumph: and that which make our hearts ache shall fill us with gladness. The only true happiness is to learn, to advance, and to improve: which could not happen unless we had commenced with error, ignorance, and imperfection. We must pass through the darkness, to reach the light.” — Albert Pike

 

Tommy:  A Boy for all Seasons

30 Jul 2017 4 Comments

by Dr. John Persico Jr. in Uncategorized Tags: , , , , , , , ,

This is a story about my best friend in high school.  His name was Thomas Donnelly.  This story took place over fifty years ago.  I still think of the influence that these events have had on my life.  Many of you will be repelled by the story that I narrate.  If you can suspend your morality, you might be able to accept that the culture I grew up in made these events very normal even if you do not consider them to be moral.

Street Corner Gang

It happened one hot Saturday afternoon in the summer.  I was hanging out on our Manton street corner.  As with all Italian teenagers, we hung out in a certain geographic area and this association led to our identity as the “Manton Gang.”  Manton was a suburb of Providence R.I. and a primarily Italian neighborhood.  My father was Italian and my mother was Irish.  It was just the reverse for my best friend Tommy.  His mother was Italian and his father was Irish.  Nevertheless, anyone with Irish or Italian blood was accepted into our street corner gang.

At fourteen to eighteen years of age, few of us were interested in anything except gambling and sex.  Gambling tended to be a regular event on the corner where we hung out but sex was much more episodic.  Good Italian girls in the sixties still did not have sex outside of marriage.  This left us to find those “bad girls” whose discrimination did not tend towards marriage or even long-term love affairs and who were much less choosy in terms of selecting “affairs of the heart.”

1956_Ford_4-Door_Sedan

Tommy and I were sitting on the corner discussing nothing important when a blue and white 56 Ford four door Fairlane pulled up to the curb and started honking.  At first, we did not recognize anyone in the car.  Two guys were in the front seat and no one was in the back seat.  We finally recognized Dave and Bob.  Dave was an infrequent corner member but Bob was a regular.  We sauntered over to the car.  It was always important to look cool and nonchalant when we were growing up.  As we approached the open window on Dave’s side, he yelled out.  “Hey, you guys want to get laid?”

“What’s up” I said.  Dave replied, “Get in and I will tell you on the way.”  Both Tommy and I jumped in the back seat.  Bob already had shot gun.  Dave gunned the accelerator and off we went.  “Okay, so where are we going” asked Tommy.  Bob said, “Well, there is this chick and she is hot to go with anyone who comes over to her house.”  “You mean she will take all of us?  What’s wrong with her?” I wanted to know.  Bob continued, “Who knows.  She is just really open to more than one guy.”  “Well, where are her parents,” I persisted.   “She lives with her dad who is a police chief” said Dave.  “What, are you crazy” both Tommy and I said in synchrony.  “Don’t worry” said Bob, “her dad will not be home.”

new england houseThe idea of sex in our minds easily overrode any caution or concern about getting caught by her father.  We arrived at her house.  She lived out of town somewhat in Scituate which was a more rural area of R.I. in the sixties.  When we arrived, Bob said “I will go in first and check things out.  If it is okay, you guys can come in.  Bob went inside the small average looking New England Colonial house with two upper dormer windows and came out a few minutes later.  “OK guys” Bob said, “She is willing.”  We all trotted inside the house to the first room which was a kitchen with a small table and four chairs.  Dave, Tommy and I sat on the chairs and Bob headed up a small staircase.  “I will go first” said Bob “and Dave is next.  You and Tommy can decide who goes after Dave.”  “Oh”, said Bob, “her name is Barbara and she likes to be called Barb.”  No one challenged this order of affairs as it was taken for granted that since Bob had set this up, he had first dibs.

Bob went up the stairs while Dave, Tommy and I just sat and kibitzed.  I wondered what was in store for me when I went up the stairs.  Bob came down about twenty minutes later looking quite proud and content.  “She likes to talk a little before” said Bob, “so you have to be a little patient.  But be persistent and she will get on with it.”   It was Dave’s turn next and he wasted no time going up the stair case.  Sometime later Dave came down, also looking very proud and content.

Tommy and I decided that I would go next.  Up the staircase I went and into a small bedroom where I found Barb half-dressed and sitting on the edge of the bed.  She was a very attractive young girl of sixteen or seventeen years of age.  She had long brown hair and a small frame that was nicely curved.  She had a very pretty face and could easily have been a cheerleader.  She was probably about five feet four inches in height but it was somewhat difficult to tell as she was sitting cross legged on her bed.

sad girl on bed

I introduced myself.  We started some small talk and I learned that her mother had left her father some time ago and that she now lived alone with her dad.  She had no other siblings.  Her dad was very strict and would not let her date.  She said that he scared most of her friends away and was very difficult to live with.  I sensed that her escapades today were a chance for her to rebel against her father’s strict sexual codes.  She was willing to go all out and did not care about any side effects.  No birth control or sexual disease prevention even came up as an issue.

We small talked for about a half hour or so and I sensed that I had better get on with the action or she would talk forever.  A real man talks less than he acts and I had talked longer than most real men would have.  I started to lay Barbara down on the bed.  She put up no resistance and meekly laid back against the sheets.  I placed my body down over hers but before starting to remove any of our clothes, I gazed into her eyes.  They were brown and sad.  I stopped to think.  This poor girl is looking for someone to love her and does not really know how to go about it.  I would just be taking advantageous of her.  I can’t do this.  I lifted her back up and quietly left the room.  She never said a word to me and I left without another word.

Feeling very guilty, I walked back down the staircase.  I did not say much when I met Tommy.  Both Dave and Bob had gone back out to the car and were now playing cards in the front seat.  Hi Low Jack was a popular game on the corner and we played it for money whatever chance we had.  I said to Tommy, “It’s your turn.”  Tommy went up the staircase and returned about thirty minutes later.  We silently left the house and went out the front door to the car.  I never saw Barb or that house again.

guys in car

We piled back in the car with Dave and Bob.  There was some minor discussion about Barbara and how hot she was on the way back to the corner but most of it took place between Dave and Bob.  Neither Tommy or I said I word.  Truth be told, I would never have admitted to either Dave or Bob that I did not have sex with Barb.  Tommy and I were dropped back at the Manton Street corner where our friends all hung out and Dave and Bob drove off together.

Tommy and I sat in silence for a while.  I finally broke the silence and asked Tommy “well how did it go?”  Tommy looked very pensive and replied, “I did not do a thing with Barb except to talk to her.”  I was somewhat stunned as I figured that I had wimped out but that Tommy (who was one of the best-looking guys on the corner) would have scored a home run in sixty seconds flat.  I asked Tom “why?”  I did not tell him that I had also struck out.  At the time, that is how I felt.  Like a batter who comes up to the plate, takes three swings and strikes out.

Tommy quietly replied “I did not want to take advantage of her.  She was lonely and scared and needy.  She needed a friend more than she needed getting laid.”  I had felt the same way but many years ago, pride and ego would not allow me to admit that I had also not gone all the way with Barb.  I persisted with Tom “Well, what are you going to tell the other guys.”  Tom then replied with a statement that I have remembered all the rest of my life.  Tommy said, “I don’t care what they think, I have to live with myself.” 

Wisdom-knowing-font-b-Integrity-b-font-Decor-Cute-vinyl-wall-decal-font-b-quote-b

Over the years, I have lost touch with Tommy.  We have traveled very different roads.  Tommy became a minister and works with the poor.  I became an educator and management consultant.  Many years and many different philosophies now separate us.  But I will never forget the lesson that I learned from Tommy that one hot summer afternoon about integrity and being who we are called to be and not who the world wants us to be.

Time for Questions:

Why do I call Tom a “boy for all seasons?”  What does it mean to have integrity?  How do we go about developing integrity?  How do we increase our empathy for other people?  What does it mean to be ourselves?  Are people naturally good or evil?

Life is just beginning.

“That’s what Jamie didn’t understand: it was never just sex.  Even the fastest, dirtiest, most impersonal screw was about more than sex.  It was about connection.  It was about looking at another human being and seeing your own loneliness and neediness reflected back.  It was recognizing that together you had the power to temporarily banish that sense of isolation.  It was about experiencing what it was to be human at the basest, most instinctive level.  How could that be described as just anything?”  — Emily Maguire, Taming the Beast

Emily and Robert:  A love story

23 Jul 2017 6 Comments

by Dr. John Persico Jr. in Uncategorized Tags: , , , , , , ,

elderly-senior-woman-brushing-teeth-her-medical-aid-walker-her-bathroom-assisted-living-nursing-home-concept-64290289

Our story starts in a bathroom.   Emily is brushing her teeth and thinking about her beloved husband Robert.  Emily is 85 years old and Robert is 87 years old.  Emily and Robert have had a long life together.  Often happy, but often tumultuous with the stress of family, money and work disrupting the natural harmony of things.  Through all the ups and downs, their love for each other was the one constant of their lives.  Despite all the cliches about true love and being made for each other and all the other tropes one hears about lovers, no two people ever loved each other more than Emily and Robert.

elderly-couple-remarry-48-years-after-divorce-lena-henderson-and-roland-davis

For the past ten years, Emily had been taking care of Robert.  After he had his second stroke, Robert needed help to dress and shower each morning.  He was no longer able to take care of his house hold chores and he needed help to do the many activities that he had once taken for granted.  Robert was a proud man but Emily was also very stubborn and she showed her love for Robert in her dedication to helping him.  Robert was appreciative and demonstrated it by doing all he could to minimize the burden for Emily.  He never complained and he never forget to say thank you to Emily no matter how many times she helped him.

An-older-couple-sitting-i-0072Emily and Robert had been married for nearly 65 years.  They were both in their early twenties when they met in college.  It was love at first sight.  Their parents wanted them to wait to finish college but after a brief whirlwind romance, they simply eloped.  They surprised everyone when they came back to school and finished their college degrees.  Robert became an engineer and Emily was a school teacher for many years.  The careers they chose suited their personalities.  They were known as hard faithful workers.  Not once in over forty years did any employer ever have a complaint or problem with either Robert or Emily.  After forty-five years, they both chose to retire so they could spend more time together after Robert’s first stroke.

old-asian-couple

The saddest part of their lives was their inability to have their own children.  However, they made up for this by becoming foster parents.  Over the course of their years together, they had helped to raise nearly twenty-five foster children.  The social service agency responsible for the placements always said that they could not have found two more loving parents.  As parents, they were strict with high expectations but they were always fair and compassionate.  They latino-couplewere loved by all their foster children who often returned home to visit or to simply stop by with a bit of news or something to eat.  Robert and Emily could not have loved any children of their own more than they loved their foster children.

 

Emily continued brushing her teeth and getting ready for bed.  The light was off in their bedroom and the bathroom adjoined the bedroom.  Emily kept up a running dialogue with Robert about her day and the trip she had taken to visit one of her sick foster children.  Robert never answered so Emily just assumed he was reading or perhaps had fallen asleep.  Even after all these years, they still slept together.  Robert always slept closest to the bathroom door and Emily slept on the other side closest to the window.

lady surprisedEmily finished brushing her teeth and then took her nightly pills.  She shut off the bathroom light and started out to the bedroom.  The light by Robert’s side of the bed was on and Emily started to say something to Robert when abruptly she stopped.  Her eyes fell upon an empty bed that was undisturbed.  The sheets and bed covers had not been moved.  Emily was surprised and shocked.  Where was bedroom at nightRobert?  Suddenly, Emily remembered.  Robert had died the previous week and had been buried two days before on Saturday.  Tears came to her eyes.  What would she do without her Robert?  She was all alone now.  No one to go to bed with.  No one to talk to at night.  No one who would regularly listen to her complaints and problems about the world.

Being the survivor of a pair of lovers is a terrible burden.  Most of us want to go first.  However, neither Emily or Robert had ever wanted to be the first to go for both knew how hard it would be for the other.  Sadly, someone must go first.  The survivor is left with a vacuum in their life and memories.  The vacuum can never be filled and the memories cannot be forgotten.  Events that happened many years ago seem like they just happened yesterday and events of a few days past seem like they happened eons ago.  Memories do not respect a correlation to physical time.

elderly-woman-by-window-001

Emily will die in five years.  In between today and her death, she will experience joy, sadness, pain and a certainty that life will once more resume for her and Robert.  She believes that somewhere in this vast universe, her atoms and Robert’s atoms will coalesce and the two of them will again be united.  As sure as you are reading this story, Robert and Emily will live joyfully ever after in a place where life and death can no longer challenge their happiness.

Time for Questions:

What is love?  Have you ever been in love?  How do you know?  Who was the greatest love of your life?  Why?  Is there anything more important than love?

Life is just beginning.

“The real act of marriage takes place in the heart, not in the ballroom or church or synagogue. It’s a choice you make – not just on your wedding day, but over and over again – and that choice is reflected in the way you treat your husband or wife.” —  Barbara De Angelis
 

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