My grandfather passed recently after struggling many years with diabetes, heart problems, depression, and a myriad of other issues. As long as I can remember he was always "dying" of something, as in he had received bad news from the doctor and had resigned himself to never change his lifestyle in pursuit of better health. I watched this process for nearly 30 years, and while some things bring back fond memories, such as the scent of Northwoods cigars (his favorite brand), mostly I am reminded of the misery he put himself through simply by refusing to take care of himself. Throughout my 20's, I gave my health very little thought. I ate terrible foods, drank to excess, and smoked on and off for years. I felt gross and miserable, but since that was all I had known, I thought it was normal. It was not until I decided to join the Navy, that I made some major changes to my lifestyle. I had to change my eating habits, and lo and behold, I felt much better. Suddenly I could tell by feel, the difference between good meals and bad, and I found myself craving vegetables. I was not out of the rabbit hole yet. I was still drinking excessively, as sailors are want to do, and would sneak the occasional cigarette. After 3 years, I lost my good eating habits, gained quite a bit of weight, and fell into a depression. I stopped caring about what I put into my body, and reaped the consequences. I bounced between drinking, eating poorly, feeling bad, comfort eating, drinking again, and so on. I started making excuses for not taking care of myself. I felt not just that I didn't want to take care of myself, I COULDN'T take care of myself. I knew if I would just change my lifestyle, I could get back to where I was, where I felt good physically and mentally. After my grandfather passed, I spoke a lot with my family. It reminded me of his mentality and mannerisms. It was a big slap in the face to realize that I was behaving like he did, and if I kept on like I was, I could end up with diabetes or worse. I didn't want to be miserable anymore, nor did I want that for the rest of my life. I began with a Whole30. I cleaned up my eating and started meal prepping healthy, homemade meals. I created a gym schedule, and started running again. One of the most difficult tasks, I removed all the alcohol from my home, and worked to find healthier, non-substance requiring coping mechanisms for everyday stress. I knew I could not substitute alcohol with anything food-related, or I would be trying to fix that next. I continue to work on that aspect today. Clean living has become an extremely important part of my life. I know my lowest point, and know what I need to do to stay far away from that hole. In a way, seeing my grandfather decline was a lot like glimpsing into my future, if I did not make the changes I needed to make. Living clean I can climb mountains, dive in trenches, run to my heart's content. I feel capable, mentally and physically. Looking back, I wish that my grandfather could have felt this way, and perhaps he did at some point. I refuse to allow my quality of life to decline due to my lack of care for my body. That is why I believe clean living is an important aspect in my life.

I currently live on the island of Oahu, where there are over 1 million feral cats. Exploring the island, one will often stumble across a colony or a lone stray. Cats, like many other species, are not native to Hawaii. They disrupt the local ecology, and are detrimental to local wildlife. Hawaii has a vibrant bird population, many of whom fall prey to hungry felines. In addition to their impact on the bird population, feral cats also have an impact on marine wildlife as well. Toxoplasmosis is a disease which is cause by a single-cell parasite found in cat feces, which can be fatal to monk seals, found in the waters around Hawaii. Whether it be direct, or indirect, feral cats have a negative impact on many local species, an issue exacerbated by their gross overpopulation. Unfortunately, due to this overpopulation, some people will lay out traps, pick up strays and drop them off at colonies, or even shoot feral cats on sight. In their quest to protect local wildlife, people often resort to cruel measures to displace or rid themselves of what they see as a pest. I was became aware of this problem shortly after moving to the island, but had no clue what I could personally do to help. I adopted 2 cats from the Humane Society and gave them a loving home. Shortly after, I found lost kitten. He was covered in fleas, full of worms, and had severe conjunctivitis. After several weeks of medication, 2 A.M. feedings, and lots of scratches, I had him back in tip top shape. At that point, I was so in love with the little fellow that I decided I had better keep him as well. This year, I became involved with a rescue group called Cat People of Oahu. I contacted the volunteer coordinator to see how I could become involved, when she informed they were always in need of fosters. To date, I have fostered 12 cats and kittens, many of which I raised from a bottle. Seeing them grow into healthy adults and go on to find their forever homes has been an indescribable experience. In addition to rehabilitating strays, Cat People of Oahu also conducts TNR (trap-neuter-return). Since it is impossible to find homes for every single feral cat, our goal is to decrease the overall population of feral cats through humane methods. This may not seem like enough, but a queen (mother cat) can produce 1-10 kittens in a single litter, and though they are seasonal breeders, she can become pregnant again within 2-7 days after giving birth. The exponential growth of un-fixed cat population is staggering. Why am I passionate about animal advocacy? Because these creatures, through no fault of their own, were introduced to a new environment where, unfortunately, they had a negative impact. Now they face cruelty and abuse from the very same species that introduced them in the first place. Rather than acknowledging our mistake, humans have grown to view these cats as a pest that should be exterminated. The unfortunate fact is that this is just a small example of the injustices inflicted upon countless species. My goal in life is help rectify the ecological damage caused by humans, and to do so kindly and humanely. That is my passion, and will ever be my life's work.

Last year I lost both of my grandfathers within a span of 4 months. My Grandpa Farrell was a difficult man who loved his family, but was exceedingly heavy handed in trying to control our personal affairs. My Grandpa Dahlstrom was a loving and happy man who, when you stopped for a visit, would greet you with a pastry and a joke email one of the neighbors had been nice enough to print out for him. The difference in how these men responded to the prospect of death will remain with me for the rest of my life. Grandpa Farrell was a devout Lutheran. He was in church every Sunday, and constantly asked us if we were attending regularly. It is also important to note that he was a consummate hypochondriac who had been "dying" since he was around 30 years old according to his wife and daughters. He loved passionately and felt strongly about every topic that came to pass, but had difficulty with his emotions and dealing with his life experiences. Grandpa Dahlstrom never had an ill or ail that would stop him from doing what needed to get done. From running a dairy farm to logging, he never stopped once in his 85 years on this earth. He had 7 children, 17 grandchildren, and lived to meet almost all of his 21 great grandchildren. His energy came from bringing joy to those around him. When news came to me that Grandpa Farrell was close to passing, I immediately came home. I spent a week with my family just waiting, waiting for him to pass. I read to him. In his moments of lucidity he was frightened, he cried and begged us to call the pastor. He was terrified to die. My grandmother had to give him sedatives to fall asleep because he was too afraid he wouldn't wake up. His fear toward the inevitability of his situation was heart-wrenching. My grandmother cried to us and wished it could be over, for his sake and for hers. On the day he passed, Grandma saw a deer outside his window which made its way back to the woods after his passing. She believed it was a sign that after such a terrible end, he was finally at peace. I did not have the chance to see Grandpa Dahlstrom before he passed. Though he had health issues which were controlled, he was taken from us by a sudden bout of covid. Grandma considered it a blessing in the end. In the months before, grandpa had grown too weak to go cut wood, to go tinker in the workshop, he had lost his taste for sweets and everything that he enjoyed in life. Grandpa was a shell of his former self, hardly able to gather the energy to tell a joke, let alone attend a dairy breakfast. When he developed covid, the doctor gave him the option to travel to the southern part of the state to be put on a ventilator. He refused. Grandpa knew that prolonging his life was useless if he could not enjoy what was left. He shared a goodbye with grandma and passed peacefully in the local hospital. This experience brought up a question in my mind. What does it mean to "live a full life"? My Grandpa Farrell lived a very full life. He travelled, pursued hobbies, tried numerous jobs, yet something was not satisfied in him when he passed on. I don't know if it was a fear of what was on the other side of death or what, but something in him was not ready. Grandpa Dahlstrom lived a farmer's life. He never left his home town. His travel experiences included Branson Missouri, taking a train across the continental United States, and a single Alaskan Cruise that his family chipped in to pay for. (My grandmother cried every time she looked outside at the scenery.) He worked the same job his entire life and lived in the same house that he had since he was born. His life may not have been the modern idea of a "full life" but he was satisfied with what he had done and seen. He lived a "full-hearted life". I believe these stories resonate with me due to my own pursuit of fulfillment. I was raised with the mentality that one should take any good paying job despite one's own interest, because then you can pay to go on vacation. I wholeheartedly disagree. I don't want to escape my life. I want satisfy my own desires, so when it is my time I will be ready. When life has decided I can no longer do the things I love, I want to look back happily. For this, I will continue to live my full-hearted life.