Sharon Kennedy

At the tender age of 10, I learned that people are always coming and going into and out of our lives. Two months before my 11th birthday, my best friend moved from our side road. Her father was a civilian employee at the Kincheloe Air Force Base. He was reassigned to Milwaukee, Wis. That move signaled the end of our friendship. Lorraine and I had known each other since we were toddlers. At times we had argued over which was better — playing with the dolls I loved or riding her horse, Star. Lorraine hated dolls. I was terrified of horses. Somehow we negotiated a shaky truce that lasted throughout our childhood.

I will say that candy and flowers are always welcome but a visit from you would have meant more to your mother than anything you could buy.

We all have days when things don't go our way, and our intake of salt is greater than our sugar intake. Stuff happens to everyone. Some challenges are greater than others, but nobody escapes them. Take yesterday, for example. I kept thinking about how good a double scoop of ice cream would taste. I argued with myself for a couple of hours until I was convinced it was just what I needed to keep the blues at bay.

Although I was tempted to call the city and inquire if any plots were still available, I nixed the idea. My gardening days are over. For many years I planted, weeded and watered vegetables and flowers in my front and back yards. I enjoyed everything involved in growing gardens, but those days are gone. I think it's wonderful that the Soo offers a dedicated space for people who want to grow their own vegetables. Every time I walk along the canal, it will be interesting to watch the progress of plants and to stop for a moment and chat with the gardeners.

I think it’s wonderful that the Soo offers a dedicated space for people who want to grow their own vegetables.

I suppose it isn’t the length of time we spend with someone that we get to know their worth, but the words they express.

Some folks come into our lives and leave a lasting impression. I didn't meet Rich until I moved into an Avery Square Apartment 18 months ago. I suppose it isn't the length of time we spend with someone that we get to know their worth, but the words they express. Two weeks prior to his death, we shared our last conversation. He told me he always tried to remember the name of each person who regularly walked by. He said he wanted people to feel special. It didn't matter if they patronized his café or if they were employees of Chippewa County's Community Action Agency walking by on their way to work. When they passed his way, he made a point of calling a greeting that included their first name. He stressed the importance of letting folks know they had not been ignored.

For three years I kept my distance from the political arena. I don't intend to step into the ring now, but I think we've lost our common sense. The new paradigm has shifted so far to the left or right it's no longer considered “normal” in the traditional sense. There used to be a general consensus that right was right and wrong was wrong and kindness trumped all. We learned that from our parents, many of whom had no formal education beyond grade school.

It’s taken decades to realize the futility of regret and to learn that life and friends are gifts.

At 44, Gregor Krause of Sault Ste. Marie longed for a home of his own. His dream was not unlike that of many other Americans with one major exception. Gregor is paralyzed from the chest down. Born with spina bifida, his dream seemed highly unlikely if not impossible, but he had already overcome challenges that would have defeated others with less tenacity. Through research, his family found a state-run program called “Key to Own Homeownership.” This is part of MSHDA and allows qualified renters to transfer their rental subsidies into monthly mortgage payments. Gregor met the qualifications. Then the hand of fate intervened.