PART 4
MaryFran asked friends to write letters to her about how they met and how her diagnosis changed their lives in a positive way. It turned into a beautiful exercise in dealing with grief, but also showing how something horrible can help people make changes in their lives. They were given the choice to come and read them to her personally, or if they did not feel they could, I was given the honor of reading them to her. This became one of our favorite things to do. It helped us go down memory lane, which is always fun, but more importantly, you learn how small acts of kindness over the course of your life truly affect others. I wanted to include them in the book, not to make her a martyr, but to show how even though everyone is imperfect, you never know how you can make a difference in someone’s life. I love that she got to know before she passed that she truly affected others’ lives.
Ode to MaryFran
by Kristin J.
I met MaryFran when I started working here at St. Francis over ten years ago. I don’t remember the exact moment, but I do remember being jealous of Mrs. Mac because she got to have Danny in her class and I didn’t. You always want the kids with the good parents. It just makes the year a lot smoother. MaryFran was one of those parents you wanted to have.
I did get to teach Megan, though. I had her in fourth grade but only for a half of a day due to the schedule Molly McCarthy and I ran. Megan was a joy and having MaryFran around was wonderful. She was a breath of fresh air. The moment that stuck out the most that year was when we went on our Lansing trip. It was my first time teaching fourth grade, which meant it was my first time taking a class to Lansing. Molly’s daughter got very sick the day that we were heading down and wasn’t able to go, sticking me with the trip by myself. Immediate panic. MaryFran came over, told me that we have this, and that it was going to be awesome. And it was. She took the reins, showed me where to be and what to do, and ultimately saved the day.
MaryFran was always the mom and woman around school you wanted to be. Always upbeat, the “cool” mom, her kids loved her and was okay with having her around, the friend you always wanted to have. To me she was the cool older kid at school you would hope notice you. She always noticed. She made me feel welcome, equal, and a friend even though I felt like the dorky little sister.
I look up to her still. The faith that she and Andy have instilled in her children is amazing. I admire Danny for reading and involving himself in church. Not many high school seniors make the time for their faith. I look at my three boys and hope they turn out like him. Every time we see him, I make a point to mention his name: “Look, there’s Danny Kolp doing the first reading.” “There is Megan, his sister; she was a student of mine.” “Brock, look, Danny is at SST, too, trying to improve his game.” If my boys turn out like Danny, I will be blessed beyond words.
MaryFran being sick has made me look at my life differently. I want to enjoy everything and experience it now before it may be too late. I want to be friends with the Lord and welcome whatever comes to be whenever it does. And I want to live my life including everyone, being friendly to everyone, and being happy with what I have. MaryFran has made me a better person and impacted me more than I know. Thank you, MaryFran.
Of course, I knew who you were before I had Danny in fourth grade. Who didn’t know you? You, MaryFran, are a legend at St. Francis. Larger than life, helper to all, kind, giving, considerate, caring. To say that I was excited to have you as a parent in my class would be a huge understatement.
I can’t remember how many kids were in that class, but I think it was around twenty…and if memory serves, only six of them were girls. That was a boy-heavy class. And what a group of personalities we had! You know…every class has its share of bright kids, struggling kids, button pushers, helpers, talkers, etc. This comes with the territory. Every teacher knows this. You roll with the punches, change things up, do what you need to do to make a difference in the lives of each and every child. But it’s the parents who can make or break a year for the teacher.
You were a breath of fresh air for me. You were real. I could talk with you, laugh, joke. I could tell you if Danny was say, caught swearing (ha-ha) or talking too much, or being a wonderful, loving kid. He, of course, was all of that and more. I have loved that boy for the past nine years. And I get tears in my eyes every time I see him as a reader at mass, or he wraps me in a bear hug, or he tells me that his career as a reader at mass started in my classroom. Oh, the pride I feel when I watch that boy.
Now here is the kicker…I got to have you as a parent two years in a row! Do you know how exciting that is for a teacher? I was elated to know that Megan was coming up the next year and that I would get to spend a second year with you. Now Megan’s class…that was a gem of a class. Man, I loved those kids. I have never had a group of kids so driven to succeed. That class was one for the record books for me. And Meg…bright, kind, loving…just like her mama. You must be so proud. Meg was such an amazing young lady. I get the chance to see her every now and then and I always get a hug, and I always get a smile, and it just warms my heart. She is such a poised, beautiful young woman. I’m so proud to have had a small part in her development.
I remember riding with you in Danny’s year to Lansing. So much fun. I remember my mom (also known as Mrs. Crabtree) putting Andy in the dunce seat at the One Room School. She told him to look at Thomas Jefferson’s rules and to memorize one. Then she asked him what he learned. He said something like, “Always put off until tomorrow what you should do today.” That got a huge laugh. The next year, she put him back in and told him he better learn the saying right this time. He was such a great sport.
Even after your kids moved on from fourth grade, you continued to be one of my strongest supporters, and I have always appreciated that. Teaching is not for the weak. We get beat up quite regularly. If it wasn’t for parents like you, I know I would not have made it to this point in my career. You have always been a bright, shining star for me. For that, I thank you.
I’m not going to lie…your diagnosis threw me for a loop. I thought, How, could this be? How is it even possible? I felt lost. I wanted to help. I didn’t know if I could. I’m a crier…always have been, always will be. I could never fit in with British society, stiff upper lip and all that. I cry all the time. I knew that wasn’t what you needed. I was thrilled to be able to make a quilt for you with my class. I loved putting together a poetry anthology for you. I threw my heart into that project…knowing that it was one small thing that I could do. I knew people were making meals, and driving to appointments, but those tasks were just not in the cards for me. I didn’t own a car. I wish I could have done more. I hope you know you have been in my heart and my mind since the minute I heard about the diagnosis.
Your diagnosis has helped me look at the world through different lenses. I appreciate more. I care more. I take nothing and nobody for granted. It helped me realize what a gift life and health are.
I love you, MaryFran, and I love your family. I am sending this story wrapped up in every ounce of care and compassion that I have inside of me.
—Molly M.
I have two stories to share about Fran. The first I will entitle “You Reap What You Sow.” I can’t remember exactly where or when Fran and I first met, but I know it was when our boys were in preschool at St. Francis. What I do recall is how incredibly welcoming and friendly she was. If there was a new family in school, you could bet that Fran was going to invite the children over for a playdate, and she was for sure going to invite the mother out for a “girls’ night out.” She made sure that no one was left out. She gave new meaning to the phrase “no child left behind”! Her positive energy was contagious. Little did she know that all of the friendships that she formed when the kids were growing up would be invaluable after she was diagnosed with ALS. Fran cultivated an amazing group of both women and men who were more than willing to reach out and help in any way possible. Lesson learned…you reap what you sow.
My second story is called “Kind
red Spirits?” On July 3, 2014, my family went to visit my parents in the eastern Upper Peninsula. My dad had recently been diagnosed with recurrent prostate cancer. I arrived at my parents’ home, took one look at my dad in his rocking chair, and dropped to my knees in tears. Dad had a myriad of issues going on, and they had taken a toll on him. Later that day, on the eve of July 3, I received the text that Fran had been officially diagnosed with ALS. I knew very little about ALS, so I spent some time with Google. Very quickly, I learned that one of my dearest friends was facing the fight of her life. That month, my mom, sister, and I went on a road trip with Dad to Mayo Clinic. Dad came home from Mayo with a newfound energy to fight his own battle. For both Fran and my dad, the years to follow were consumed with countless doctors’ appointments and treatments. But I witnessed amazing strength and courage. I’ll never understand how Dad and Fran maintained such a positive attitude. Nearly every time I saw Fran, she asked, “How’s Dad?” Sometimes my answer would be short. “Hanging in there.” And at other times it would be rather lengthy. Dad was a very complicated case!
Now Fran and Dad knew each other, but not really well. This past winter, on the night of the Soo vs Petoskey boys’ basketball game, Dad was shuffling out of the gym as Fran was sitting at the doorway in her wheelchair, sporting her pins that read “Please don’t kiss me during flu season.” Dad had become such a lover in his later years, and upon seeing Fran, he bent over and laid a big kiss on her. The next day, I apologized to her for Dad’s lack of judgement. Fran’s only response was, “I loved it!”
Dad’s status deteriorated quickly mid-June, and on June 13, 2018, he went home from the hospital with hospice care. That very same day, Fran moved to Hiland Cottage. I visited briefly with Fran the next day on my way up to the UP. Of course, she asked, “How’s Dad?” I replied, “Not well.” We worked a deal. If she was to move on first, she would take Dad with her, and I would ask Dad to do the same. I spent the following weekend at Dad’s bedside, praying for peace and comfort, not only for him, but for Fran, too. I made a quick trip to Petoskey on Monday, during which time I visited with Fran. Again, she asked about Dad. I reminded her of our deal; would she stop and grab Dad on her way? She smiled with as much of a smile as she could muster and shook her head “Yes.” Dad passed away in the early morning of Wednesday, June 20, 2018. Fran passed away six hours later. Shortly after Dad passed, I witnessed two shooting stars. Coincidence? Maybe. But I choose to find comfort in the thought that Fran and Dad are walking and talking and maybe smooching a little and are in a much better place. I miss them both dearly, but I am so thankful for the lessons that I have learned from them both, to be selfless and strong, caring and courageous, kind and compassionate.
—Julie I.
How it all Began, How I Met Fran, the Sister of My Heart…
My husband Jeff and I met MaryFran and Andy Kolp in Lamaze classes while pregnant with our boys in 1999. Fran and I chatted about our impending births while the men were discussing the very important subject of bird hunting. From that moment on we were fast friends. Little did we know that was the start of a deep and long-lasting sisterhood.
Our sons, Hunter and Danny, were born one day apart. I had Hunter on June 13 at 5:00 p.m. Fran came in to visit at around 9 a.m., had an OB checkup, and came back to tell me they were going to induce her within the hour! Danny was born that day, June 14!
While I was pregnant with Kira, Fran asked me what I wanted for Christmas, and I told her to get pregnant again. Fran, being the good friend that she is, got me what I asked for! Kira and Megan, our daughters, are four months apart (Kira 4/25/01, Meg 8/30/01).
Fran and I raised our babies together like cousins. The Kolp kids call Jeff and me Uncle Jeff and Aunt Mel, and to my kids they are Uncle Andy and Aunt Fran. Since the kids were born, we probably saw each other or spoke on the phone every day for thirteen years. When the kids were babies, Fran and I took them everywhere together. Throughout the years our families celebrated holidays, birthdays, and took many family vacations together. In raising our kids together, we were truly sisters, sharing joys, concerns, and tough times. Just like sisters we were always there for each other, encouraging, laughing, fighting, crying, and constant. Fran and I played and worked out together, trying to get our bodies back in fighting shape. We started with spinning at Bentleys and moved on to road bike rides and sprint triathlons.
When it was time for school for the kids, Fran convinced me to send the kids to St. Francis Xavier School despite us not being Catholic. What a great experience we had becoming part of the SFX family! During our time at SFX, I would describe my relationship with Fran as partners in crime. We taught extracurricular science together, volunteered for auctions and school functions, and even coached soccer together for a season for parks and recreation. When I say we volunteered (all of you know Franny), she signed “us” up; she was the big-picture lead and I was the follow through/detail person. Whatever it was we did together always turn out well, with a little chaos but loads of fun for all of us involved!
How Fran’s ALS inspired us…
When Fran was diagnosed with ALS, Jeff and I had been in the middle of trying to decide if we would follow our dream of moving out West. Leave everything we knew? Move all the way across the country? Leave all our friends and our kids’ friends and family? When we were hit with the reality of how life can change in an instant, our decision was made. This was the only time that would be right for our kids’ lives to have an adventure like this. The time was now or never.
The guilt of leaving when your “sister” has been given this challenge is immense, let me tell you! But of course, like a true sister of the heart, Fran was the first to tell me to do it. “Go, follow your dream, and don’t look back. We have our phones and planes.” The experience out West has changed our whole family for the better and has brought us all closer together, I believe. Summers and vacations together are made even more special because our time with the Kolps meant more quality time versus quantity. We don’t take our friendship for granted; we celebrate it.
More importantly, how Fran inspires me…
Fran, Franny, Aunt Fran has always been an inspiration to me in so many ways…
“Mel, just go with it.” “We’ll figure it out when we get there.” “Plan ahead? What’s that?” I was always worrying, and she was always “just winging it.” She did help me learn not to sweat the small stuff so much.
“Let kids be kids.” Letting the kids play in the mud in Porter Creek, letting the kids eat themselves silly, and most contentious—letting every kid at the birthday party stick their spoon anywhere they wanted into the birthday cake all at the same time! I would freak out at Fran’s lax way of letting the kids do their thing, and Fran would crack up at how crazy I made myself trying to keep it all orderly. I think in the end we balanced each other out. My kids think, Thank goodness for Aunt Fran, the good cop.
“Everybody’s got something going on.” Sometimes when I was being critical or upset about another individual or a situation, Fran was always the first person to give them the benefit of the doubt or encourage forgiveness in saying, “You never know what else they have going on in their lives.”
“Mel and I will do it!” Always the energizer bunny, Fran was up for anything, anywhere, anytime. Always willing to help a cause or person, Fran was the first to volunteer to get involved. Probably the biggest lesson, inspiration, gift Fran has given to me was her “you get what you give.” Well, Fran, I feel so very blessed to have gotten you.
Thank you for everything, my beautiful friend, inspiration, and sister of my heart.
I love you,
Mel
Dear Fran,
I will never forget the day you informed me of the diagnosis that we all wanted to refuse. I will never forget your resolve to help others, help yourself, dig deep into your spiritual core, and become the strongest human being as your physical body weakened. But most of all, I will never forget the most amazing hours we spent together a
s I worked on you, trying to offer some bit of relief. All the conversations, laughter, tears (oh, the tears) regarding our families and most of all children are a gift I will treasure throughout my lifetime. The “sisterhood” of our community and beyond was brought together because of you. Fran, I promise to always share a memory of you every time I see Danny and Megan. And, I promise to never forget all that we shared, and how you helped me as I was trying to help you. YOU are and angel, Fran!
I Love You,
Shelley
MaryFran,
Your eyes shining bright
Your smiling face
Your arms opened wide
Your warm embrace
You make hearts feel alive
Loved and special
True gift from God
You Fran, are his Vessel
You touch many hearts
And spread God’s cheer
You live well
Holding others dear
Spirited and free
Joy and energy abounds
That’s our Frannie
With thought lots of people around!
You’re a special friend, Fran
Soul sisters at heart
We are always close
Even when we’re apart
From Birmingham to Toledo
Petoskey to GR
Sometimes close, sometimes far
But always connected, no matter where we are
We’ve dreamed dreams
The Highest Hurdle Page 16