That There's English

There's comparative, superlative, and then there's the 'huh?'.

I'm on a second week of teaching comparing adjectives to the kids - it's like getting milk from a goat (it may seem easy from a distance, but when you try and do it yourself, you realize that some things are better left alone). I don't remember ever learning comparative and superlative in school when I was growing up, but I do know which words sound best and which don't. As Sam and I joked one time while looking over his grades, "These ain't not half bad."

Today was like any other Monday. By that I mean I retaught everything from last week,... starting with, "Hello, I'm Mr. Kelly. I'll be your teacher this year." Okay, so maybe it's not to that extreme every Monday.

We began our grammar lesson by reviewing the comparative / superlative comparisons that can only be commonly known by contestants on 'I'm Smarter Than A Fifth Grader,' and a student teacher, majoring in English, who likes to go around telling everyone she knows the difference between comparative and superlative in hopes of landing a job (either that, or she's waiting to hear back from 'I'm Smarter Than A Fifth Grader' in hopes of winning a million dollars and not needing a job after all).

"When using the words more / most we use the comparative of more when talking about two subjects. We use most when we compare more than two." I proceed by going through a few examples on the overhead. Feeling that I've conquered the more / most lesson, I readied myself to test my expert tutelage.

Confidently I ask a student to use a comparative adjective in the following sentence: 'The artist had __________ paintings than his friend.'

The student ever so hesitantly replies with,... "morest". 'The artist had morest paintings than his friend.'

There you have it. My job is complete! I'm off to find a goat to milk.

Foto Friday

Hannah discusses her adoption of Buddy with a reporter from the local paper. Buddy too, took part in the interview.

It Begins Again

Some parents of children with cancer can remember the exact day in which the doctor said the words, "It's cancer."

For me it's today. 365 days ago today, we were heading to the Mayo Clinic. On the day before, Hannah had her last travel basketball game with team party to follow their wonderful season. It was that night that she complained of her arm hurting,... Kim feeling the lump,... and our excursion to the hospital to reassure us all that danger was not eminent.

I can still hear the emergency doctor begin to run down the list of steps to follow - it was there that I could stop him, "We're heading to Mayo TOMORROW."
"Good choice," he replied.

Both Kim and I woke early on Sunday(not that sleep was really an option) and headed to school to lay out lesson plans for our substitutes. In the past a two day trip was typical - have the MRI, visit with the doctors, and head home. So being the prepared teacher, I printed out three days (the 'just in case' clause). As a teacher, I have the typical lesson plans on my computer for the week ahead,.. then I have the substitute plans which detail every minute of the day.

By the late morning time, we were back at home (anxiety climbing through the roof - only no one would speak of it), and we were preparing for our departure. Not knowing what lie ahead, but definitely not expecting what was there.

All day today, the thoughts of last year ran through my mind. I kept them to myself for the most part - sharing a moment with Kim once, "You know it was a year this Sunday, ... well, actually Monday with the days moving forward, that we were heading to the Mayo Clinic for the first time?"

You hate to say those things aloud because it brings up a time that most would soon forget. But, it's a celebration as well. For we are still here, still fighting, and still praying that God has a plan that is bigger than cancer.

Yet, I can't help but pause and think, 'How many children have begun the path we have taken today? How many families have begun the walk through cancer?' I know there has been a number of them since we began, and there will be more to come.

My prayer is that these families,... on this night,... be comforted in knowing that they are not alone.

Peace and Prayers

Friday Video

Speed Bumps

Day 320:

"How's Hannah doing with her flute?" my dad asks during one of our recent phone conversations.

I suppose being away, in Florida, takes you out of the daily picture. Hannah and I are working on a blogger video of her flute skills. Not being able to use her hand and arm fully can present a little speed bump when it comes to doing certain things. But, we remember that they are just speed bumps and we may go a little slower - but moving forward is still the goal.

Foto Friday - It's Time

The weather report calls for partially sunny, with a chance of clouds. There is a possible chance of snow/rain mix off and on throughout the region with winds variable. Temperatures will range between a comfortable 40 to 70 degrees. It's spring in Michigan. Plan for anything - It's time to ride!

Missing Minnesota

Day 316:

We head back to Minnesota for a whirlwind trip in May. Reality sits in when you start looking at family medical days left on the calendar for work. Fortunately and unfortunately, Mayo schedulers were able to put our scans and doctors visit in ONE DAY! One L O N G day.

"Steve called. He wants you to call him back tonight," Kim delivered the message as I sat at the computer moments earlier scanning the email and thinking Boy, I really need to connect to see what's happening with everyone.

Since the Cancer Experience, our world has opened up, both in what we now know and in now who we know. Thinking back a year ago, my world revolved around youth basketball and school. Both seem a far second to the connections we made and the growth we've had,... both in Minnesota and back here in Michigan.

I suppose 'Missing Minnesota' is not so much for the state as it is for the people we left. If I sit and stare out the window long enough, I can still picture the 'shortcuts' around Rochester; along with the jaunts to Byron, Plainview, and Waltham to visit friends. Before I know it, I can transport myself back to last summer and the overwhelming comfort given by those who I never knew a year ago - yet feel as if I've known a life time.

Meant To Be

by Sue Burkhard

You can call it fate, or destiny, or God's plan. I call it a little miracle myself. And I'm honored that I was one of the threads that when combined together offer us the opportunity to ponder faith, hope, love, compassion, understanding and courage.

This story starts with faith and understanding. Animal Shelters across the country struggle with a balance of life and death daily. Sick animals to far gone too be helped, some abused and mistreated animals taught to fear and hate mankind cannot be safely adopted or treated, and the healthy ones when space and money become an issue. Most people don't want to hear about the reasons for euthanasia in shelters and they definitely don't want to put faces to stories. It's too painful, it hurts too much. But think about the dedicated workers who love and care for these animals, help the ones they can, spend hours facilitating adoptions, and who sometimes have to make the hard and painful choice to euthanize the animal they have spent hours, days, weeks, sometimes months caring for. For these workers some of the hardest losses are the babies.

For most people kittens and puppies conjure up feelings of happiness, joy, and unbridled enthusiasm. For shelter workers they think of the "babies" in a different light. They bring sadness and a feeling of being overwhelmed. Guilt runs hand in hand with anger at times with to many babies coming in and not enough being adopted out. And then there is the sickness. Shelters are like large day care centers. Full of germs. Animals come in and out, some without ever before seeing a vet for shots or health checks and some with unknown or incomplete histories. The babies that come into, or are born at the shelter are extremely susceptible and despite the best care and cleaning we can provide the mortality rate is very high for animals less than 8 weeks of age.

The first "mama" of kitten season brings both joy and sadness. Despite the pain and frustration that comes with caring for baby kittens there is something special about these tiny bundles of fur so small and needy. This year our first mom of the season was Patches. A beautiful calico, merely a baby herself less then a year old. Patches came into the shelter a picture of contrasts. Her belly swollen, while the rest of her small frame protruded bonily through her skin from poor nourishment. Not a good sign for a young pregnant mom. Shortly after coming in Patches went into labor. Our medical and animal care staff monitored her closely and despite every effort to revive them, two of the babies were born dead. Most likely the victims of no pre-natal care, a young and immature mom, and poor nutrition. But we had two beautiful orange tiger balls of fluff that were alive and needed our care. So we pushed through our grief and focused on the ones we could help. But sadness and bewilderment struck again a week later when one of the small babies, who had been thriving, suddenly died. That left one kitten, one mom, and a group of discouraged shelter workers and volunteers.

We found ourselves asking WHY? Why were these poor babies born only to die? Why is it our burden to try so hard and then fail? Just Why? And that leads to the next chapter in this story. The story of hope, compassion and courage. The story that answers the why and most profoundly teaches us that "for everything there is a reason".

Those that know me know that one of the most used "animal rescue" phrases drives me crazy. "I do it for the animals". At first glance that is a noble and needed cause. But it is not that simple. I do it for the animals AND the people who are enriched by the animals. For in today's society every domesticated animal has a person(s) who's life is also affected.

Just days after the third baby kitten died, I was at the Humane Society of Southwestern Michigan taking some photos for the webpage and helping our new Shelter Director deal with some management issues. I was rushed, and harried, and just a little bit frustrated by several small problems that seemed to pop up. So I wasn't paying as much attention as I should have when one of our Volunteers came up and told me that a family was there looking for an orange kitten and was it ok to show them the "baby in the back?" I think my response was something like "NO! We don't know if that kitten is going to live yet, it's to young, and is NOT available for adoption". And I rushed off to deal with another issue. About 30 second later I realized I might have been too harsh and that I needed to go follow-up with the potential adopters myself to explain the reasons why this kitten wasn't available for adoption yet and see if I could facilitate an adoption of an animal that was ready. So I went back and found the volunteer explaining to the adopters what I had said and I stood back and listened as the "Mom" explained why they were there. While I stood and listened to her story, I almost instantly understood "WHY" we had got Patches and her babies and WHY as others struggled and died, one survived. And I met Hannah Kelly.

Hannah's mom Kim advised they were looking for a special kitten and that they were willing to wait if needed. You see they had already been waiting almost a year for "Hannah's Kitten". In April of 2007 Hannah had been diagnosed with Firbrosarcoma in her right forearm. Hannah turned 11 in November. Hannah's been through testing, radiation, chemotherapy and two major surgeries. Her smile is like a beacon of light in a dark room. I can't even imagine the struggles and pain and the courage and faith to still smile after all this little girl has been through. At some point during her battle with cancer Hannah decided she wanted a kitten. Kim told me that before Hannah started chemotherapy she told her that when she was finished with her last chemo treatment she could get a kitten. And Hannah had the picture of that special one in her mind. It would be a little orange tiger.

After hearing all of this I knew that if Hannah decided this was her "special kitten" that we would need to do everything possible to facilitate this adoption. But I was scared. How do you explain to an 11-year-old cancer survivor about kitten mortality in shelters and the odds of this one little kitten surviving until it was 7 weeks old, and able to be weaned from the mom? I decided that an 11-year-old cancer survivor should be told the truth. So I explained to her about the kitten's history, that three others had died, about germs and odds and Hannah listened carefully. But Hannah decided that this kitten was meant to be hers. Hannah's mom wrote me this a few days later: "She has undergone chemotherapy, radiation, and two major surgeries. And she did it all through the grace of God and with His strength faithfully. She will never have full use of her right hand but that doesn't stop her from doing anything she puts her mind to. She feels this kitty is a survivor, just like her. Especially after hearing that his siblings didn't make it. She told me this morning that it has been her dream to take care of a baby kitten just like this one. This baby will be well loved here and we will pray her mother will also find a home."

Thus we began the "Hannah's Kitten Mission". I couldn't sleep all the night I met Hannah. I kept worrying about how I was going to help keep this kitten alive for this special little girl. The next morning as soon as it was decent I started calling and telling folks the story. That night I was at a meeting and told the story and one of the ladies advised she could foster the mom and kitten in her house to remove them from the germie environment at the shelter. One of the Vets who help at the shelter offered to exam the mom and kitten and sex the baby so Hannah could name it. Turns out he is a boy and his name is Buddy! Hannah was emailed pictures and put in contact with the Foster Mom so she could visit her new kitten while he grew. And everyone prayed and held their breaths for 4 long weeks.

Finally it was time. The baby was old enough and thriving! Actually he's a plump little fellow! Hannah had prepared for his arrival at home and gotten all the things a new kitten would need!

We all met last night at Buddy's foster mom's home. Hella Grams welcomed Hannah & Kim and myself in and we snapped some pictures, offered "new mom" advice, and handed baby Buddy over to Hannah.

Two survivors and a few bystanders, who had faith and dared to hope, surrounded by love and courage together as we understood that this is what was meant to be!

Spring HAS Sprung

Day 313:

"Welcome back to school. I trust everyone had a good break and we're ready to finish the year strong," I was forced to use my projection voice, as kids eagerly shared stories of Spring Break.

A lot of times, following vacations, I like to take some time to sit back and listen through the din to the various stories around the room as vacations are regaled,.... like this one,.. "Hey, do you know how they hire the girls that work at Hooters?" ...., or this one,... "Do you know where babies come from?"

Ah,.... Spring is in the air. Of course, on both topics, I quickly put a halt to the conversation. Well, okay,..I tried to put a halt to the conversation. It was the baby question that wouldn't go away as quickly as the "Hey, no talk about hiring techniques in class," - a couple girls decided to follow it up with a small group discussion with me as others prepared for music class.

"So, Mr. Kelly, where do babies come from?"
"Their mother," after all, I've taught human growth and development for years, these girls didn't know they are dealing with a professional.

"We know they come from the mother," they continued, "but how do they get inside the mother?"
"Yeah, like is it some magical pill or something?" the second girl chimed in.
"No, there's no pill," I paused to collect my words, "there's just a long talk that you will have with your mother to explain things. But, let's not expect that talk anytime soon."

With eyes rolling, "I know about the talk. My older brother had that over break. It didn't sound like they enjoyed it much."
"So, will you have the talk with us?" another well-versed question from the friend.

"Mr. Kelly, are your kids READY FOR MUSIC!" the music teacher appeared in the nick of time in my doorway.


Later today: Hannah and Buddy

The Good Stuff

Day 312:

It's a good thing I have this free time on my hands, now that basketball is well past!

It gives me more time to get stuff done around the house. Who would have ever thought stuff would take up so much time? And,.. what did this stuff do while I was gone? I'll tell you! It waited until now.

For example,... today I (along with the whole family) moved a wood pile for one location to another. Seemed an awful a lot like a movie where prisoners move rock from one pile to another. The kicker to compare and contrast the movie to real life,... we moved the wood pile a whopping 10 feet! It was a worthwhile 10 feet of stuff . All stuff we do together is good stuff .

Beyond the STUFF is what we live for,...Hannah got Buddy this week! It's been a blessing, a little miracle, and a truly wonderful event (despite my Dad grumblings about another cat in the house).

I hope to bring to you the story of Hannah and Buddy tomorrow.