If you live long enough, you see many things pass in your lifetime. You almost always outlive a pet; often we outlive our parents and both losses are fairly traumatic. Your pets are like your family and without the gift of speech, you have only to trust their behaviors and reactions. The loss of a pet is difficult because that pet can't say goodbye or offer closure to the wonderful part of your life that you have shared. When your parents pass, the grief is often huge but can be eventually placed to the wonderful memories shares in your life from moments of youth to celebrations of adulthood like marriages and partnerships and children and grandchildren. Very often we get closure but we almost always get to communicate. Even our careers and jobs pass. It wasn't long ago that I looked around CRMS and thought it won't be too long and I won't be there. That time is approaching rapidly.
Lest you think I am writing about those monumental occasions, I am not. Today as I was driving from some last minute grocery shopping to start the week, I passed by the old Columbia Arena in Fridley, MN. It stands derelict to the play area that once was teeming with youth, rehearsal space, and the local arena that everyone knew and often followed their local hockey teams. As i passed, it made me think about so many buildings in our lives that we leave behind haunted with memories that were at one time were important, vital, or even character defining.
Last summer tornado destroyed my old high school. While high school wasn't the greatest time in my life as most would remember, the destruction of it cut close to home. So many things happened to me and my high school friends there, romances were won and lost, contests, performances, even many of the teachers who walked those halls are no longer with us. With the loss of the that building, we lose Mr. Hall's room or Mr. Burn's art room. Amazing how 3 years of one's life are tied to that building. Your hall where your locker was your space for 3 years. With the quickness and ferocity of a train, the building collapses and so does part of your history.
Going back to my home town and seeing the house where I grew up in a different color and the backyard fenced in and my dad's garden replaced with a swing set told me I was truly no longer a piece of that property's being. I suppose that is true as everyone grows up and away. While some people eventually move into the house they were raised in, for most of us- it becomes a new journey only to visit during celebrations. Those passings are inevitable and force our own journey which whether we like it or not, we have to travel.
My life was built around teaching young people. The first school where I had my first room, chaperoned my first dance, worked my first football game as a teacher, saw the first graduation that I had been part of was removed and made way for a newer building. Fewer bricks of red with more modern conveniences without a worn stairwell made of marble and a wrought iron hand rail. ADA changed so many things about what schools could be and what they had to be, it was only a matter of time. The school officials saw to let pieces of the old building be purchased. Friends of mine got a piece of my first floor and a brick from the old demolished building. While I can no longer walk the 3 classroom hallway which I thought was giant back then, I can still have a piece of the old yellow shellacked floor. While the building is no longer in its original, I have a vital piece to connect with the thousands of memories of those first 6 years. Soon that time will come for me to do the same for CRMS. This marks my 26th year there and have worked from 4 different rooms in that span.
The old Columbia Arena is an eye sore at this point. The building itself has remained too long. The round building where they filmed Mighty Ducks, the 49'er Days' celebrations at the park where you could see the helicopter land for rides, the craft fairs that were once part of the yearly use of that buildings are just ghosts from another time. Ghosts who wander the along the parking lot in disrepair and covered in rogue grass breaking the tar into incomplete patterns. I will not say good bye to Columbia Arena just yet. Some investor will dream and see it rise like a Phoenix along University Ave. Once again vital with the cheers of loyal fans!
Keith
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Thursday, May 26, 2011
What about Bob?
Over the course of the last 5-6 years, we have brought a person into our family who has enriched our lives, become a close friend, almost an older son if you will. So much that Louise refers to him as our older son. While that is another blog, the uniqueness of the situation lends itself for me to talk about another person who has been and continues to be someone of great importance in my life.
If you have followed any of my blogs across this year, you will often hear me talk about Ortonville. It’s hard for me not to think of Ortonville as my hometown for many reasons. During those years of my first teaching job, I really grew up there, found a real family, and really the foundation for whom I have become was set there. I was brought into this terrific family that through the years has blessed my life so richly. It’s hard to imagine even being around let alone a husband, dad, teacher, or a coach without that influence. Among those lifelong influences comes from my friend Bob.
You need to know a few things about Bob-you will never find a man with a kinder heart. You will never find a man with bigger shoulders. You will never find a man who truly believes in the goodness of people. While I would like to think I can do that, I hide in the shadow of this man. Some of life’s greatest lessons I have learned from this man- as well as how to make Taco Salad the right way!
I was excited to get my first job teaching. I had no clue that a small town would be so small (even after growing up in one). Floundering a little to find a place, I immersed myself in everything. I coached jr. high wrestling- can you say sit out? I directed the plays, advised the newspaper and the junior class, challenged the social studies teacher who ran the AV room, and did just about anything I could to get noticed. One Sunday afternoon, I drove up to the football field which I quickly learned was the center of town on Friday nights to engage in some flag football. While not being a jock (the wrestling thing was to impress this overbearing and often inappropriate coach teacher), I figure it would be a good mixer. Some of the other new teachers were going and so I did as well. Instantly, Bob had organized the game, had me on his side, didn’t’ matter that I was the chubby one, and brought me into the Sunday flag football group as though I had been there years.
It was just the start. Over the years I was in Ortonville, Bob not only befriended me but allowed me to be a part of him and his family’s lives. I have to share what a giant of a man this guy is (for sure in my eyes ). Life was often troublesome for me for lots of reasons. Bob saw a way to make them even keel. He found a way to make large things appear insignificant. He never had a moment when he wasn’t afraid to show me how to be supportive to kids, people, and community. I can pinpoint moments that 25 years are as vivid today and as important to me as they were back then, perhaps even more important with time, age, and history.
Here are few across the short time of living in Ortonville are moments that I not only cherish but have built into my character:
Getting the chance to play Flag football and later Broomball. You have no idea of the confidence builder those were, Bob. It showed me that moving out of my comfort zone on some things was good for the character, soul, and body. I am still figuring out golf.
Walks along the lake road that were supposed to be good for us physically were also good for us spiritually. It’s where I knew it was ok to be a Christian Man.
When Ben died and Chuck and I got lost in the cities, you were there to comfort us in spite of just losing your son. I learned that hearts break for lots of reason and people that care about you can heal them.
I remember playing racquetball with you and being beaten. I was so upset with myself and cursed and was a poor sport. I learned to be a good sport that night. You were upset by the behavior, never once telling me so just by how your reactions went from excited to feeling overwhelmed by the bad behaviors.
Cheering kids to success even those that are not yours is important. You were there to support speech and plays, things I’m not sure you knew much about in the beginning, but took an interest cause they were mine. I remember making the cancer patients look ill with your expertise while directing The Shadow Box.
The several times you took me fishing. While you were focused in on the job at hand, it was the unspoken that was louder than words. That has been a valuable lesson for me all my life. I talk if uneasy. Sometimes “no words” is more important than many.
The gift of your family, especially those three boys, taught me what a family is and how you are part of your family no matter its configuration. It was great that I could show that learning back by bringing my own family to you. In fact, the greatest tribute to you and Mary was to have you be Godparents to Zach.
As I have gotten older and have had medical issues that frighten or confuse me, you have been there to be my resource and a support if need be. I remember how frightened you were when you tipped the 3 wheeler and really hurt yourself. I remember how more frightened you were when I tipped the 3 wheeler while we delivered meds in a snowstorm.
In the few and infrequent trips I make to my “ home town” these days, I get all excited when I hit Starbuck. In my mind, I can see the house, I can see the room and the piano and the kitchen where I spent so many moments of my life, It’s where I learned the greatest cook was the Clubhouse when it really was Mary. It’s where I studied for my GRE because some how it was easier at your place. It’s where time and time again I found home.
When I was younger and living in Ortonville, there was a Kenny Rogers song from a Burt Lancaster Kirk Douglas movie called “Tough Guys” . I used to think that how cool it would be to someday think “They Don’t Make Them Like They Used To“ was about you and me, Bob. Here we are and guess what, they don’t.
Thanks for so much for what I’m sure you never knew you gave.
Baby steps, baby steps, baby steps.
Over the course of the last 5-6 years, we have brought a person into our family who has enriched our lives, become a close friend, almost an older son if you will. So much that Louise refers to him as our older son. While that is another blog, the uniqueness of the situation lends itself for me to talk about another person who has been and continues to be someone of great importance in my life.
If you have followed any of my blogs across this year, you will often hear me talk about Ortonville. It’s hard for me not to think of Ortonville as my hometown for many reasons. During those years of my first teaching job, I really grew up there, found a real family, and really the foundation for whom I have become was set there. I was brought into this terrific family that through the years has blessed my life so richly. It’s hard to imagine even being around let alone a husband, dad, teacher, or a coach without that influence. Among those lifelong influences comes from my friend Bob.
You need to know a few things about Bob-you will never find a man with a kinder heart. You will never find a man with bigger shoulders. You will never find a man who truly believes in the goodness of people. While I would like to think I can do that, I hide in the shadow of this man. Some of life’s greatest lessons I have learned from this man- as well as how to make Taco Salad the right way!
I was excited to get my first job teaching. I had no clue that a small town would be so small (even after growing up in one). Floundering a little to find a place, I immersed myself in everything. I coached jr. high wrestling- can you say sit out? I directed the plays, advised the newspaper and the junior class, challenged the social studies teacher who ran the AV room, and did just about anything I could to get noticed. One Sunday afternoon, I drove up to the football field which I quickly learned was the center of town on Friday nights to engage in some flag football. While not being a jock (the wrestling thing was to impress this overbearing and often inappropriate coach teacher), I figure it would be a good mixer. Some of the other new teachers were going and so I did as well. Instantly, Bob had organized the game, had me on his side, didn’t’ matter that I was the chubby one, and brought me into the Sunday flag football group as though I had been there years.
It was just the start. Over the years I was in Ortonville, Bob not only befriended me but allowed me to be a part of him and his family’s lives. I have to share what a giant of a man this guy is (for sure in my eyes ). Life was often troublesome for me for lots of reasons. Bob saw a way to make them even keel. He found a way to make large things appear insignificant. He never had a moment when he wasn’t afraid to show me how to be supportive to kids, people, and community. I can pinpoint moments that 25 years are as vivid today and as important to me as they were back then, perhaps even more important with time, age, and history.
Here are few across the short time of living in Ortonville are moments that I not only cherish but have built into my character:
Getting the chance to play Flag football and later Broomball. You have no idea of the confidence builder those were, Bob. It showed me that moving out of my comfort zone on some things was good for the character, soul, and body. I am still figuring out golf.
Walks along the lake road that were supposed to be good for us physically were also good for us spiritually. It’s where I knew it was ok to be a Christian Man.
When Ben died and Chuck and I got lost in the cities, you were there to comfort us in spite of just losing your son. I learned that hearts break for lots of reason and people that care about you can heal them.
I remember playing racquetball with you and being beaten. I was so upset with myself and cursed and was a poor sport. I learned to be a good sport that night. You were upset by the behavior, never once telling me so just by how your reactions went from excited to feeling overwhelmed by the bad behaviors.
Cheering kids to success even those that are not yours is important. You were there to support speech and plays, things I’m not sure you knew much about in the beginning, but took an interest cause they were mine. I remember making the cancer patients look ill with your expertise while directing The Shadow Box.
The several times you took me fishing. While you were focused in on the job at hand, it was the unspoken that was louder than words. That has been a valuable lesson for me all my life. I talk if uneasy. Sometimes “no words” is more important than many.
The gift of your family, especially those three boys, taught me what a family is and how you are part of your family no matter its configuration. It was great that I could show that learning back by bringing my own family to you. In fact, the greatest tribute to you and Mary was to have you be Godparents to Zach.
As I have gotten older and have had medical issues that frighten or confuse me, you have been there to be my resource and a support if need be. I remember how frightened you were when you tipped the 3 wheeler and really hurt yourself. I remember how more frightened you were when I tipped the 3 wheeler while we delivered meds in a snowstorm.
In the few and infrequent trips I make to my “ home town” these days, I get all excited when I hit Starbuck. In my mind, I can see the house, I can see the room and the piano and the kitchen where I spent so many moments of my life, It’s where I learned the greatest cook was the Clubhouse when it really was Mary. It’s where I studied for my GRE because some how it was easier at your place. It’s where time and time again I found home.
When I was younger and living in Ortonville, there was a Kenny Rogers song from a Burt Lancaster Kirk Douglas movie called “Tough Guys” . I used to think that how cool it would be to someday think “They Don’t Make Them Like They Used To“ was about you and me, Bob. Here we are and guess what, they don’t.
Thanks for so much for what I’m sure you never knew you gave.
Baby steps, baby steps, baby steps.
Here is a youtube version of that song!!
Cut and paste the following in your browser to hear the song!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zf61NJKQXrQ
If you have followed any of my blogs across this year, you will often hear me talk about Ortonville. It’s hard for me not to think of Ortonville as my hometown for many reasons. During those years of my first teaching job, I really grew up there, found a real family, and really the foundation for whom I have become was set there. I was brought into this terrific family that through the years has blessed my life so richly. It’s hard to imagine even being around let alone a husband, dad, teacher, or a coach without that influence. Among those lifelong influences comes from my friend Bob.
You need to know a few things about Bob-you will never find a man with a kinder heart. You will never find a man with bigger shoulders. You will never find a man who truly believes in the goodness of people. While I would like to think I can do that, I hide in the shadow of this man. Some of life’s greatest lessons I have learned from this man- as well as how to make Taco Salad the right way!
I was excited to get my first job teaching. I had no clue that a small town would be so small (even after growing up in one). Floundering a little to find a place, I immersed myself in everything. I coached jr. high wrestling- can you say sit out? I directed the plays, advised the newspaper and the junior class, challenged the social studies teacher who ran the AV room, and did just about anything I could to get noticed. One Sunday afternoon, I drove up to the football field which I quickly learned was the center of town on Friday nights to engage in some flag football. While not being a jock (the wrestling thing was to impress this overbearing and often inappropriate coach teacher), I figure it would be a good mixer. Some of the other new teachers were going and so I did as well. Instantly, Bob had organized the game, had me on his side, didn’t’ matter that I was the chubby one, and brought me into the Sunday flag football group as though I had been there years.
It was just the start. Over the years I was in Ortonville, Bob not only befriended me but allowed me to be a part of him and his family’s lives. I have to share what a giant of a man this guy is (for sure in my eyes ). Life was often troublesome for me for lots of reasons. Bob saw a way to make them even keel. He found a way to make large things appear insignificant. He never had a moment when he wasn’t afraid to show me how to be supportive to kids, people, and community. I can pinpoint moments that 25 years are as vivid today and as important to me as they were back then, perhaps even more important with time, age, and history.
Here are few across the short time of living in Ortonville are moments that I not only cherish but have built into my character:
Getting the chance to play Flag football and later Broomball. You have no idea of the confidence builder those were, Bob. It showed me that moving out of my comfort zone on some things was good for the character, soul, and body. I am still figuring out golf.
Walks along the lake road that were supposed to be good for us physically were also good for us spiritually. It’s where I knew it was ok to be a Christian Man.
When Ben died and Chuck and I got lost in the cities, you were there to comfort us in spite of just losing your son. I learned that hearts break for lots of reason and people that care about you can heal them.
I remember playing racquetball with you and being beaten. I was so upset with myself and cursed and was a poor sport. I learned to be a good sport that night. You were upset by the behavior, never once telling me so just by how your reactions went from excited to feeling overwhelmed by the bad behaviors.
Cheering kids to success even those that are not yours is important. You were there to support speech and plays, things I’m not sure you knew much about in the beginning, but took an interest cause they were mine. I remember making the cancer patients look ill with your expertise while directing The Shadow Box.
The several times you took me fishing. While you were focused in on the job at hand, it was the unspoken that was louder than words. That has been a valuable lesson for me all my life. I talk if uneasy. Sometimes “no words” is more important than many.
The gift of your family, especially those three boys, taught me what a family is and how you are part of your family no matter its configuration. It was great that I could show that learning back by bringing my own family to you. In fact, the greatest tribute to you and Mary was to have you be Godparents to Zach.
As I have gotten older and have had medical issues that frighten or confuse me, you have been there to be my resource and a support if need be. I remember how frightened you were when you tipped the 3 wheeler and really hurt yourself. I remember how more frightened you were when I tipped the 3 wheeler while we delivered meds in a snowstorm.
In the few and infrequent trips I make to my “ home town” these days, I get all excited when I hit Starbuck. In my mind, I can see the house, I can see the room and the piano and the kitchen where I spent so many moments of my life, It’s where I learned the greatest cook was the Clubhouse when it really was Mary. It’s where I studied for my GRE because some how it was easier at your place. It’s where time and time again I found home.
When I was younger and living in Ortonville, there was a Kenny Rogers song from a Burt Lancaster Kirk Douglas movie called “Tough Guys” . I used to think that how cool it would be to someday think “They Don’t Make Them Like They Used To“ was about you and me, Bob. Here we are and guess what, they don’t.
Thanks for so much for what I’m sure you never knew you gave.
Baby steps, baby steps, baby steps.
Over the course of the last 5-6 years, we have brought a person into our family who has enriched our lives, become a close friend, almost an older son if you will. So much that Louise refers to him as our older son. While that is another blog, the uniqueness of the situation lends itself for me to talk about another person who has been and continues to be someone of great importance in my life.
If you have followed any of my blogs across this year, you will often hear me talk about Ortonville. It’s hard for me not to think of Ortonville as my hometown for many reasons. During those years of my first teaching job, I really grew up there, found a real family, and really the foundation for whom I have become was set there. I was brought into this terrific family that through the years has blessed my life so richly. It’s hard to imagine even being around let alone a husband, dad, teacher, or a coach without that influence. Among those lifelong influences comes from my friend Bob.
You need to know a few things about Bob-you will never find a man with a kinder heart. You will never find a man with bigger shoulders. You will never find a man who truly believes in the goodness of people. While I would like to think I can do that, I hide in the shadow of this man. Some of life’s greatest lessons I have learned from this man- as well as how to make Taco Salad the right way!
I was excited to get my first job teaching. I had no clue that a small town would be so small (even after growing up in one). Floundering a little to find a place, I immersed myself in everything. I coached jr. high wrestling- can you say sit out? I directed the plays, advised the newspaper and the junior class, challenged the social studies teacher who ran the AV room, and did just about anything I could to get noticed. One Sunday afternoon, I drove up to the football field which I quickly learned was the center of town on Friday nights to engage in some flag football. While not being a jock (the wrestling thing was to impress this overbearing and often inappropriate coach teacher), I figure it would be a good mixer. Some of the other new teachers were going and so I did as well. Instantly, Bob had organized the game, had me on his side, didn’t’ matter that I was the chubby one, and brought me into the Sunday flag football group as though I had been there years.
It was just the start. Over the years I was in Ortonville, Bob not only befriended me but allowed me to be a part of him and his family’s lives. I have to share what a giant of a man this guy is (for sure in my eyes ). Life was often troublesome for me for lots of reasons. Bob saw a way to make them even keel. He found a way to make large things appear insignificant. He never had a moment when he wasn’t afraid to show me how to be supportive to kids, people, and community. I can pinpoint moments that 25 years are as vivid today and as important to me as they were back then, perhaps even more important with time, age, and history.
Here are few across the short time of living in Ortonville are moments that I not only cherish but have built into my character:
Getting the chance to play Flag football and later Broomball. You have no idea of the confidence builder those were, Bob. It showed me that moving out of my comfort zone on some things was good for the character, soul, and body. I am still figuring out golf.
Walks along the lake road that were supposed to be good for us physically were also good for us spiritually. It’s where I knew it was ok to be a Christian Man.
When Ben died and Chuck and I got lost in the cities, you were there to comfort us in spite of just losing your son. I learned that hearts break for lots of reason and people that care about you can heal them.
I remember playing racquetball with you and being beaten. I was so upset with myself and cursed and was a poor sport. I learned to be a good sport that night. You were upset by the behavior, never once telling me so just by how your reactions went from excited to feeling overwhelmed by the bad behaviors.
Cheering kids to success even those that are not yours is important. You were there to support speech and plays, things I’m not sure you knew much about in the beginning, but took an interest cause they were mine. I remember making the cancer patients look ill with your expertise while directing The Shadow Box.
The several times you took me fishing. While you were focused in on the job at hand, it was the unspoken that was louder than words. That has been a valuable lesson for me all my life. I talk if uneasy. Sometimes “no words” is more important than many.
The gift of your family, especially those three boys, taught me what a family is and how you are part of your family no matter its configuration. It was great that I could show that learning back by bringing my own family to you. In fact, the greatest tribute to you and Mary was to have you be Godparents to Zach.
As I have gotten older and have had medical issues that frighten or confuse me, you have been there to be my resource and a support if need be. I remember how frightened you were when you tipped the 3 wheeler and really hurt yourself. I remember how more frightened you were when I tipped the 3 wheeler while we delivered meds in a snowstorm.
In the few and infrequent trips I make to my “ home town” these days, I get all excited when I hit Starbuck. In my mind, I can see the house, I can see the room and the piano and the kitchen where I spent so many moments of my life, It’s where I learned the greatest cook was the Clubhouse when it really was Mary. It’s where I studied for my GRE because some how it was easier at your place. It’s where time and time again I found home.
When I was younger and living in Ortonville, there was a Kenny Rogers song from a Burt Lancaster Kirk Douglas movie called “Tough Guys” . I used to think that how cool it would be to someday think “They Don’t Make Them Like They Used To“ was about you and me, Bob. Here we are and guess what, they don’t.
Thanks for so much for what I’m sure you never knew you gave.
Baby steps, baby steps, baby steps.
Here is a youtube version of that song!!
Cut and paste the following in your browser to hear the song!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zf61NJKQXrQ
Sunday, May 8, 2011
Woman is the mother of the World ( Sorry John Lennon )
Today on Mother's Day, we get the opportunity to celebrate all that is a mother. The celebration knows no age and includes anyone who ever gave birth or anyone who nurtured us. The father of grown children, I don't always take the time to think about my own mother, those that I know are mothers, and those who selflessly allowed me to be a part of their lives. I am the better for all.
I lost my mother many years before, perhaps 10. I know some would fault me for not knowing exactly when my mother died ( I could look it up on the death certificate that resides somewhere in my house), but I really don't remember. I know it was in early December. My brother's family and I had been at my parents' house for Thanksgiving, and the conversation got around to the concern for Mom's welfare in the house and should we be looking at some sort of assisted living for her. Falling asleep while eating, see her deteriorate rapidly that fall, we knew the time would be coming soon that my dad would not be able to take care of her. Ironically, we always had secretly wished my dad would pass first concerned that he would never be able to take care of himself with mom doing the cooking, cleaning, shopping and all of it. Mom went into congestive heart failure, fell asleep at the hospital and passed quietly. While I don't remember the exact date, I remember the details.
My mom never really had the coping skill set she needed to exist in a marriage with an alcoholic. Most of my friends know that I grew up in a tough home. My dad would drink a large chunk of the money he earned working hard at silo cement factory. Mom did various odd jobs; retail, daycare, some sewing to make ends meet from the loss of income to the alcoholism. I remind myself all the time of this when I think back to the life I had growing up. Hers was no better and she had children to take care.
Rather than speak of the difficulties she had let, let me extol about all the amazing things she did, then share about the other wonderful moms I have had. My own mother worked to make sure I had the things that most adolescents had even though there was little money to make the happen. Often depriving herself of needed things, I had a money for new clothes for a dance, a record album I wanted, or even a special meal. Often the money wasn't there to do those things, but somehow or another she made it happen. She was often mother and father to me. She held a house together when sometimes the bills were more than the income. She made sure that when friends came to visit my drunken father was often out of sight, knowing that it would reflect on me. She kept me going to church even when I thought it was for little kids or old people. She knew all the right things to do, did them, and made sure they were available.
When I was older and left home, I found that mothers are mothers everywhere. They have no issue bringing you into their family and the rewards from such a relationship are profound. My first year of teaching was a year of soul searching. I knew what I wanted, I knew what I needed to do, I knew that I probably didn't have all the things I needed to make it happen. I found myself a part of an amazing family- not just one part but all of it. Jay Ross connected to me as a young teacher, saw I was floundering with so many parts of my first year, and became a self less mentor, With Jay, came Gloria. Already a mother of four growing kids, she made room in her heart and home for me. It wasn't long that she was my second mother. She fed me, listened when things were not going well, scolded me when I did stupid stuff, and never ever was without a hug if i needed one. She is an amazing woman, After her kids were almost grown, she went back to school, got a degree, started a career and continues that to this day. One could say her husband Jay is a dreamer. One could say I am very much like him. She was able to hold so many things together. Last summer, like so many other women, Gloria had a cancer scare. I never ever thought there could be a time when she wasn't there. Gratefully, she is well and back to normal and can still work, fish, cook and keep that immaculate house that she does all the time being a grandma too! I love you Gloria!
In that same family, Jay's younger brother, Bob, is married to an equally marvelous lady. Mary is responsible for some many good things in my life. I often refer to my years in Ortonville as the years I grew up. Mary is probably the most responsible for my faith life. I have learned so much about Christian faith from her. She is always patient, kind, and loving, One of the greatest gifts she ever gave me was the chance to be around her sons when they were little. To this day, those guys are very dear to me as is the entire family. Mary is a woman is always gracious- no matter what. She is styled with class, educated, and loves to laugh. I often wonder what my life would be like if God didn't plant her there. Whether her role be friend, sister, mother, the care and love i have for her and her family is so real and rich. This is the stuff of God's promise!
My Aunt Diana remains one the greatest women I have met. She has had her score of troubles and remains undaunted by most things. She never never forgets to laugh! When I get to have a conversation with her, I usually end up feeling 10 feet tall because we have laughed for the entire length of the phone call. Married to my Uncle Rich, whom I wrote about earlier and who was a dreamer and compassionate man, she was the stability in a marriage that had its turns. When my uncle could be impetuous or stubborn, she could find a way to bring a calmness to the situation. When my uncle passed away, I vowed to keep in contact with her. In many families, she would have just been my uncle's wife. She is not just that, she is someone I love, wish I saw more often, and will treasure always. Aunt Diana I love you!
There are others. My friend Doug's mother is amazing. Pat is another woman who could conquer the world if need be. She is kind, loving, incredibly gracious and another woman of faith. I sometimes think of WWPD ( what would Pat do ) in circumstances of frustration with my church and other things in my life. She understands things before they surface, and she has so much common sense. When I get to hang out with friend Doug, I see her grace in him every time we are together! Thanks Pat for taking the time to be involved! Thanks for taking the interest in me and my family. I think you are one of the solid rocks of St. Matthew's.
When the African saying " It takes a community to raise a child" was more popular than it is today, I always understood what it means. God places so many people in our lives it's impossible for His grace not so show through in the women in our lives. We are blessed by the love of all those who day in day out help us get by, survive, and make it a wonderful life!
Thank you.
Keith
I lost my mother many years before, perhaps 10. I know some would fault me for not knowing exactly when my mother died ( I could look it up on the death certificate that resides somewhere in my house), but I really don't remember. I know it was in early December. My brother's family and I had been at my parents' house for Thanksgiving, and the conversation got around to the concern for Mom's welfare in the house and should we be looking at some sort of assisted living for her. Falling asleep while eating, see her deteriorate rapidly that fall, we knew the time would be coming soon that my dad would not be able to take care of her. Ironically, we always had secretly wished my dad would pass first concerned that he would never be able to take care of himself with mom doing the cooking, cleaning, shopping and all of it. Mom went into congestive heart failure, fell asleep at the hospital and passed quietly. While I don't remember the exact date, I remember the details.
My mom never really had the coping skill set she needed to exist in a marriage with an alcoholic. Most of my friends know that I grew up in a tough home. My dad would drink a large chunk of the money he earned working hard at silo cement factory. Mom did various odd jobs; retail, daycare, some sewing to make ends meet from the loss of income to the alcoholism. I remind myself all the time of this when I think back to the life I had growing up. Hers was no better and she had children to take care.
Rather than speak of the difficulties she had let, let me extol about all the amazing things she did, then share about the other wonderful moms I have had. My own mother worked to make sure I had the things that most adolescents had even though there was little money to make the happen. Often depriving herself of needed things, I had a money for new clothes for a dance, a record album I wanted, or even a special meal. Often the money wasn't there to do those things, but somehow or another she made it happen. She was often mother and father to me. She held a house together when sometimes the bills were more than the income. She made sure that when friends came to visit my drunken father was often out of sight, knowing that it would reflect on me. She kept me going to church even when I thought it was for little kids or old people. She knew all the right things to do, did them, and made sure they were available.
When I was older and left home, I found that mothers are mothers everywhere. They have no issue bringing you into their family and the rewards from such a relationship are profound. My first year of teaching was a year of soul searching. I knew what I wanted, I knew what I needed to do, I knew that I probably didn't have all the things I needed to make it happen. I found myself a part of an amazing family- not just one part but all of it. Jay Ross connected to me as a young teacher, saw I was floundering with so many parts of my first year, and became a self less mentor, With Jay, came Gloria. Already a mother of four growing kids, she made room in her heart and home for me. It wasn't long that she was my second mother. She fed me, listened when things were not going well, scolded me when I did stupid stuff, and never ever was without a hug if i needed one. She is an amazing woman, After her kids were almost grown, she went back to school, got a degree, started a career and continues that to this day. One could say her husband Jay is a dreamer. One could say I am very much like him. She was able to hold so many things together. Last summer, like so many other women, Gloria had a cancer scare. I never ever thought there could be a time when she wasn't there. Gratefully, she is well and back to normal and can still work, fish, cook and keep that immaculate house that she does all the time being a grandma too! I love you Gloria!
In that same family, Jay's younger brother, Bob, is married to an equally marvelous lady. Mary is responsible for some many good things in my life. I often refer to my years in Ortonville as the years I grew up. Mary is probably the most responsible for my faith life. I have learned so much about Christian faith from her. She is always patient, kind, and loving, One of the greatest gifts she ever gave me was the chance to be around her sons when they were little. To this day, those guys are very dear to me as is the entire family. Mary is a woman is always gracious- no matter what. She is styled with class, educated, and loves to laugh. I often wonder what my life would be like if God didn't plant her there. Whether her role be friend, sister, mother, the care and love i have for her and her family is so real and rich. This is the stuff of God's promise!
My Aunt Diana remains one the greatest women I have met. She has had her score of troubles and remains undaunted by most things. She never never forgets to laugh! When I get to have a conversation with her, I usually end up feeling 10 feet tall because we have laughed for the entire length of the phone call. Married to my Uncle Rich, whom I wrote about earlier and who was a dreamer and compassionate man, she was the stability in a marriage that had its turns. When my uncle could be impetuous or stubborn, she could find a way to bring a calmness to the situation. When my uncle passed away, I vowed to keep in contact with her. In many families, she would have just been my uncle's wife. She is not just that, she is someone I love, wish I saw more often, and will treasure always. Aunt Diana I love you!
There are others. My friend Doug's mother is amazing. Pat is another woman who could conquer the world if need be. She is kind, loving, incredibly gracious and another woman of faith. I sometimes think of WWPD ( what would Pat do ) in circumstances of frustration with my church and other things in my life. She understands things before they surface, and she has so much common sense. When I get to hang out with friend Doug, I see her grace in him every time we are together! Thanks Pat for taking the time to be involved! Thanks for taking the interest in me and my family. I think you are one of the solid rocks of St. Matthew's.
When the African saying " It takes a community to raise a child" was more popular than it is today, I always understood what it means. God places so many people in our lives it's impossible for His grace not so show through in the women in our lives. We are blessed by the love of all those who day in day out help us get by, survive, and make it a wonderful life!
Thank you.
Keith
Monday, April 25, 2011
I was working in a lab a late one night....
For those of you that know me or are a part of my life, you know that I eat, sleep and breathe speech during the speech season. The season starts about December and runs solidly through end of the school year. This year speechies, you maybe didn’t know this, but you were an experiment. As Coach Tim and talk about speech all year long (yes if drives those that know us crazy), we thought what could we do to make the team grow and make the team a more viable team. Team 10- 11, you are that experiment.
The experiment started back in August when we had incoming seniors organize a speech breakfast to get kids thinking about recruiting new freshman and students. It was a great time to reminisce and to dream. It was great to see how all the current members attached to the idea and ran with it. An August morning at Matthew’s, it took flight.
Through networking via Facebook and cell phones, we kept the pulse beating. We talked to Coach Quinlan about doing a senior retreat to unify the team and get things going. We also talked Q into having a junior captain something I did at Coon Rapids as head coach. The junior captain allows for continuity.
We saw, we met, we elected Ryan, Alex, Karin and our junior captain Andy. The season began with the captains hosting the all team meeting in January and getting us united and heading toward what we hoped would be a banner season. We started with a huge team, dressed them in red, and came a calling. The season was amazing with students from all categories and events having a great season culminating with a 2nd, 3rd, 6th, and 8th at the state tourney.
What did learn from our experiment? First, we have amazing kids who want to do the best they can, and do. We had leadership at all levels, and we had PHIL! Phil was our man; he rallied the team in his unassuming and professional manner. We all grew moustaches! The moustache rally was only one of the ways this time united.
Secondly, we had dedicated students who would not settle for mediocre. Sure it happened, but like a see saw, when one dropped, the others arose. Finally, we had a pride this year that was unrivaled in the past. We wanted to do well for Centennial, the coach, and each other. We held each other up and moved forward.
The seniors are about to move on. We are grateful for your leadership, we are grateful for your competition, and we grateful for you as people. This time is always bittersweet because we know you have to graduate and move forward. We are sad to see you go; we are excited for your new experiences in college and life. We are proud of whom you’ve become.
Lab grade A+
Keith
The experiment started back in August when we had incoming seniors organize a speech breakfast to get kids thinking about recruiting new freshman and students. It was a great time to reminisce and to dream. It was great to see how all the current members attached to the idea and ran with it. An August morning at Matthew’s, it took flight.
Through networking via Facebook and cell phones, we kept the pulse beating. We talked to Coach Quinlan about doing a senior retreat to unify the team and get things going. We also talked Q into having a junior captain something I did at Coon Rapids as head coach. The junior captain allows for continuity.
We saw, we met, we elected Ryan, Alex, Karin and our junior captain Andy. The season began with the captains hosting the all team meeting in January and getting us united and heading toward what we hoped would be a banner season. We started with a huge team, dressed them in red, and came a calling. The season was amazing with students from all categories and events having a great season culminating with a 2nd, 3rd, 6th, and 8th at the state tourney.
What did learn from our experiment? First, we have amazing kids who want to do the best they can, and do. We had leadership at all levels, and we had PHIL! Phil was our man; he rallied the team in his unassuming and professional manner. We all grew moustaches! The moustache rally was only one of the ways this time united.
Secondly, we had dedicated students who would not settle for mediocre. Sure it happened, but like a see saw, when one dropped, the others arose. Finally, we had a pride this year that was unrivaled in the past. We wanted to do well for Centennial, the coach, and each other. We held each other up and moved forward.
The seniors are about to move on. We are grateful for your leadership, we are grateful for your competition, and we grateful for you as people. This time is always bittersweet because we know you have to graduate and move forward. We are sad to see you go; we are excited for your new experiences in college and life. We are proud of whom you’ve become.
Lab grade A+
Keith
Sunday, March 27, 2011
6 ,5, 4, 3, 2, 1 Unite!
This weekend I witnessed a sight that I haven't seen in about 28 years, a state basketball game. In my early years at Ortonville as a young teacher, I followed every game, hung on every shot, cried at every loss, and celebrated every win. Winter 1982, Ortonville went to the state basketball tournaments. We were beaten in our first game by Chisholm ( interesting that I still remember that). While it was devastating, what it did for our community was what every trip to the state tournament does for every community. We put aside our differences, and we became one.
This past weekend I was once again caught up in the proud community swell that is the state basketball tournament. This time we owe Coach Willie and the boy's basketball team from Columbia Heights for that great excitement that is the post season in any high school sport. What we really owe them is a debt of gratitude for uniting the community together behind something so significant as this ballgame. The Target center was a sea of blue and yellow for the three games this past week. Work did not allow me to see the preliminary games, but I know a bus was filled with people from our community, students on spring break got to see the game without missing school, and our fan support base was amazing.
In a sometimes divided community because of our immigration and diversity, all of the that seem insignificant as we cheered our team as they entered the arena to play that game. In my 15 years as a school board member, I have not witnessed such unification of our community even though we have tried, often with limited success, over the last few years. We have had pockets of small gains, but nothing as large as this game. We were not different groups of people, we were Hylanders. We bled blue and yellow. The past few efforts of collaboration will be testaments to the this series of games: when all is said and done, we love our kids, we love our school, we love community. You have heard our Mayor talk about it, you have heard our board chairs and superintendent talk about it, but nothing is as clear as standing together all in one cheering the rouser!
So thank you Willie, you believe in our students and our school. We are grateful and thankful for you and your leadership. Thank you Hylander basketball team and all teams, athletic and academic, you continue to give us reason to be proud of you and of our community. Let's remember the lesson of this weekend. No matter what color or language or place we come from, we are Hylanders and that is enough to believe in. We're going to fight for you our honor, our team so strong and true.
And that's the game!
Keith
This past weekend I was once again caught up in the proud community swell that is the state basketball tournament. This time we owe Coach Willie and the boy's basketball team from Columbia Heights for that great excitement that is the post season in any high school sport. What we really owe them is a debt of gratitude for uniting the community together behind something so significant as this ballgame. The Target center was a sea of blue and yellow for the three games this past week. Work did not allow me to see the preliminary games, but I know a bus was filled with people from our community, students on spring break got to see the game without missing school, and our fan support base was amazing.
In a sometimes divided community because of our immigration and diversity, all of the that seem insignificant as we cheered our team as they entered the arena to play that game. In my 15 years as a school board member, I have not witnessed such unification of our community even though we have tried, often with limited success, over the last few years. We have had pockets of small gains, but nothing as large as this game. We were not different groups of people, we were Hylanders. We bled blue and yellow. The past few efforts of collaboration will be testaments to the this series of games: when all is said and done, we love our kids, we love our school, we love community. You have heard our Mayor talk about it, you have heard our board chairs and superintendent talk about it, but nothing is as clear as standing together all in one cheering the rouser!
So thank you Willie, you believe in our students and our school. We are grateful and thankful for you and your leadership. Thank you Hylander basketball team and all teams, athletic and academic, you continue to give us reason to be proud of you and of our community. Let's remember the lesson of this weekend. No matter what color or language or place we come from, we are Hylanders and that is enough to believe in. We're going to fight for you our honor, our team so strong and true.
And that's the game!
Keith
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Got your nose......
This last weekend, Louise and I were lucky enough to escape the cold and snow to spend some time in Florida. While I could rant and rave about how beautiful the weather was, or that how cool it was to smell smells outside, or see a bee hovering through hibiscus plants, I noticed other things that I thought were more important to write about. When you were little, did your dad or mom play got your nose with you? You know the trick: an adult goes up to a younger person, pretends to grab his/her nose with two fingers, puts a thumb through the two fingers, and tells the little person "got your nose". The little one reacts for a moment, usually laughs after the adult releases the fingers, and for a short moment thinks this is a cool thing.
Always one to observe behaviors and wonder how it all fits into things, I saw this parent/child game happen many times on my visits to Universal Studios and the Magic Kingdom this past weekend. It was usually some parent who didn't anticipate a 45 minute wait to see Winnie the Pooh or ride Dumbo. The child was antsy in the stroller and dad tried to keep the youngster occupied by simple games, rarely successful for more than 20 seconds. Once in a great while, the child would respond in kind to the adult by doing the same with the adult pretending to be shocked at the loss of her/his nose.
Here is what is really cool about the whole thing. The amusement parks in Orlando are microcosms for the world. I can't tell you how many languages I heard in the days we were there. All of us waiting to ride something that would stretch our imaginations or put us on the edge of fear ( OK not the Jaws ride), all of us patiently in line for that great 10 minute escape.
The really remarkable thing on so many levels was that parents of all shapes, ages, genders all had one thing at the fore; they wanted their kids to have a great family memory. For many of us, it started with "got your nose". I can't tell you how many times in those days of visiting I saw "got your nose". I marveled at its universality; it knew no ethnicity. Pacific Islander parents go the nose of their children as did African parents as did Hispanic parents. There were so many noses lost the days at the park that had it been for real we would have generation of kids looking like Voldemort.
So I thought what a marvelous revelation. No matter where you are from, who you are, what you speak or look like, you are part of the silliness that is common to all of us. In the wake of the Japanese Tsunami, the trouble in the Northern Africa, the concerns for issues of the economy in our country, we are all united in a wonderful child's game that made us for a moment giggle and laugh. How cool is that?
Don't look now, got your nose!
Happy St. Patrick's Day!
Keith
Always one to observe behaviors and wonder how it all fits into things, I saw this parent/child game happen many times on my visits to Universal Studios and the Magic Kingdom this past weekend. It was usually some parent who didn't anticipate a 45 minute wait to see Winnie the Pooh or ride Dumbo. The child was antsy in the stroller and dad tried to keep the youngster occupied by simple games, rarely successful for more than 20 seconds. Once in a great while, the child would respond in kind to the adult by doing the same with the adult pretending to be shocked at the loss of her/his nose.
Here is what is really cool about the whole thing. The amusement parks in Orlando are microcosms for the world. I can't tell you how many languages I heard in the days we were there. All of us waiting to ride something that would stretch our imaginations or put us on the edge of fear ( OK not the Jaws ride), all of us patiently in line for that great 10 minute escape.
The really remarkable thing on so many levels was that parents of all shapes, ages, genders all had one thing at the fore; they wanted their kids to have a great family memory. For many of us, it started with "got your nose". I can't tell you how many times in those days of visiting I saw "got your nose". I marveled at its universality; it knew no ethnicity. Pacific Islander parents go the nose of their children as did African parents as did Hispanic parents. There were so many noses lost the days at the park that had it been for real we would have generation of kids looking like Voldemort.
So I thought what a marvelous revelation. No matter where you are from, who you are, what you speak or look like, you are part of the silliness that is common to all of us. In the wake of the Japanese Tsunami, the trouble in the Northern Africa, the concerns for issues of the economy in our country, we are all united in a wonderful child's game that made us for a moment giggle and laugh. How cool is that?
Don't look now, got your nose!
Happy St. Patrick's Day!
Keith
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
If You Lie With Dogs...
I have had dogs my entire life. If they weren’t living with me, I was close to friends and family that had them, or my own immediate family had dogs as pets. They were all shapes and sizes, old, young, large, and of course, the yippee small ones. It dawned on me the other morning when I get up and my younger dog had nestled himself into a block of lead against my leg that dogs really bring so many of life’s lessons to you. You have to listen of course.
We got Leo after Zach graduated from high school for many reasons. One reason we looked for another was that our older dog Susie had been with Samson most of her life. When he was no longer around, we thought it would be nice for her to have another companion during the long days when no one is there. Another was the concern that Dad would be lonely without the guys around the house. I think that was and still is probably true. I love my sons, and they have enriched my life more than I can possibly write about. I looked and looked in the paper, on line, at the animal shelter websites, and about any other place I could find. I decided I wanted a dog like Susie, our schnauzer-poo, because her temperament is amazing, she sheds little, and is a smart dog. After several attempts, we stumbled upon Leo who was an Iowan farm flood survivor, only 7 weeks old, and very, very small. Zach thought the name Leonidas ( leader of the 300 doomed Spartans) would be fit for a little puppy that had survived so much already.
Enough of the history; here is what I know about what I have learned from my dogs. Samson was our first dog with the boys. A border collie black lab cross, Sam taught me grace in old age. His last few years of life were difficult for him and for us as well as we had to make decisions about the quality of his life. Sam was gentle in the face of pain. He would sleep in the same spot and wake up and wag his tail no matter what. When we made the decision to put Sam asleep, it truly was the most difficult thing I have ever had to do. Having buried both of my parents, losing my first dog was heart wrenching. The afternoon when we returned home, the day was full of Sam stories. A fitting tribute to a great dog. The lessons: when you leave, make sure people speak well of you and love is patient.
Susie has always been of great temperament. Even as she gets older and more and more the velvet tube (as she is fondly called after grooming), she hears the garage door go up, immediately senses Louise is home, barks at the top of here lungs, and wags the tail so vigorously that anything close could be battered! She adapted quickly to Leo invading her space and comfortably spars with him over the stuffed toys Rick brings home every now and then. No longer able to jump up on our bed, she has her spot in the hall, back to the wall where she guards all three bedrooms in our house. She has this great floppy eared terrier look that instantly can cheer up the gloomiest of days. As she gets older, we all pay attention to the little changes in her knowing that she has blessed our days with her loyalty and unflinching love. The lesson: love bears, believes, hopes, and endures all things.
From the moment we brought Leo home, he has curled up and nestled against any body that is available. Louise contends that he was weaned too soon and needs that reassurance that his siblings in the litter provided. Every morning when I wake up, Leo is nestled close to me, not matter how many times I may have shoved him aside in the middle of the night; he is faithfully there. From the times when he was a puppy, there has been no other dog that can melt a heart like Leo. He knows how to pose for the camera, has a playfully mischievous look, and can make your day a whole lot better with a simple tilt of his head. He stands guard at the window watching the house like a sentry with a shrill bark. He can take Susie from a complacent older dog to a dog with vigor and gusto by simply grabbing the toy she has, tugging it and running away with it. He has added years to many of us. The lesson: love is not arrogant but perserveres.
The unique thing about dogs is they do all this without being taught to do it. They are inherently loyal, energetic, emotionally manipulative, and undyingly loving. In Marley and Me, John Grogan writes, “A dog has no use for fancy cars, big homes, or designer clothes. A water log stick will do just fine. A dog doesn't care if you’re rich or poor, clever or dull, smart or dumb. Give him your heart and he'll give you his. How many people can you say that about? How many people can make you feel rare and pure and special? How many people can make you feel extraordinary?”
WOOF
Keith
We got Leo after Zach graduated from high school for many reasons. One reason we looked for another was that our older dog Susie had been with Samson most of her life. When he was no longer around, we thought it would be nice for her to have another companion during the long days when no one is there. Another was the concern that Dad would be lonely without the guys around the house. I think that was and still is probably true. I love my sons, and they have enriched my life more than I can possibly write about. I looked and looked in the paper, on line, at the animal shelter websites, and about any other place I could find. I decided I wanted a dog like Susie, our schnauzer-poo, because her temperament is amazing, she sheds little, and is a smart dog. After several attempts, we stumbled upon Leo who was an Iowan farm flood survivor, only 7 weeks old, and very, very small. Zach thought the name Leonidas ( leader of the 300 doomed Spartans) would be fit for a little puppy that had survived so much already.
Enough of the history; here is what I know about what I have learned from my dogs. Samson was our first dog with the boys. A border collie black lab cross, Sam taught me grace in old age. His last few years of life were difficult for him and for us as well as we had to make decisions about the quality of his life. Sam was gentle in the face of pain. He would sleep in the same spot and wake up and wag his tail no matter what. When we made the decision to put Sam asleep, it truly was the most difficult thing I have ever had to do. Having buried both of my parents, losing my first dog was heart wrenching. The afternoon when we returned home, the day was full of Sam stories. A fitting tribute to a great dog. The lessons: when you leave, make sure people speak well of you and love is patient.
Susie has always been of great temperament. Even as she gets older and more and more the velvet tube (as she is fondly called after grooming), she hears the garage door go up, immediately senses Louise is home, barks at the top of here lungs, and wags the tail so vigorously that anything close could be battered! She adapted quickly to Leo invading her space and comfortably spars with him over the stuffed toys Rick brings home every now and then. No longer able to jump up on our bed, she has her spot in the hall, back to the wall where she guards all three bedrooms in our house. She has this great floppy eared terrier look that instantly can cheer up the gloomiest of days. As she gets older, we all pay attention to the little changes in her knowing that she has blessed our days with her loyalty and unflinching love. The lesson: love bears, believes, hopes, and endures all things.
From the moment we brought Leo home, he has curled up and nestled against any body that is available. Louise contends that he was weaned too soon and needs that reassurance that his siblings in the litter provided. Every morning when I wake up, Leo is nestled close to me, not matter how many times I may have shoved him aside in the middle of the night; he is faithfully there. From the times when he was a puppy, there has been no other dog that can melt a heart like Leo. He knows how to pose for the camera, has a playfully mischievous look, and can make your day a whole lot better with a simple tilt of his head. He stands guard at the window watching the house like a sentry with a shrill bark. He can take Susie from a complacent older dog to a dog with vigor and gusto by simply grabbing the toy she has, tugging it and running away with it. He has added years to many of us. The lesson: love is not arrogant but perserveres.
The unique thing about dogs is they do all this without being taught to do it. They are inherently loyal, energetic, emotionally manipulative, and undyingly loving. In Marley and Me, John Grogan writes, “A dog has no use for fancy cars, big homes, or designer clothes. A water log stick will do just fine. A dog doesn't care if you’re rich or poor, clever or dull, smart or dumb. Give him your heart and he'll give you his. How many people can you say that about? How many people can make you feel rare and pure and special? How many people can make you feel extraordinary?”
WOOF
Keith
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