Tag Archives: Inspiration

Kelly Jo

It’s cloudy, windy, gray, with a little bit of rain here today.  That seems right.  Today is Kelly’s birthday.  Some of you reading this post know and love Kelly, but there are some who don’t, and because it is her birthday today, I am going to post a few things in her honor, this being the first. Kelly is one of the inspirations for this blog, so it seems right.  If you don’t already have a Kelly in your life, it is my greatest wish for you that you will.

The following is a short essay I wrote that was published in the CSU English Department’s yearly newsletter, the Freestone.  The voice is a wee bit strange, different from what I use here, because this newsletter gets sent out to alumni, and I was writing it from my position as a working member of the department.  The hardest thing personally, besides trying to limit myself to 750 words about such an amazing person, was having to keep repeating “Kelly was.”  I wanted to say “Kelly is,” but I would have come off like a crazy person, so…here it is, such as it is.

Our Friend Kelly (Cockburn) Feinberg

Kelly Jo Cockburn Feinberg, CSU alumna and dedicated instructor, passed away peacefully in her home on May 14, 2010.

A 2002 graduate of the Masters program in English, she married CSU alumnus Matt Feinberg in 2006 on a day full of happiness and love. Matt and Kelly moved to Kentucky, where Matt began work on his Ph.D. in Spanish at the University of Kentucky. Kelly, an instructor of literature, writing, and women’s studies while at CSU, also taught writing at the University of Kentucky.

Kelly and Matt welcomed their son, Ari Isaiah, in June 2008. In the profile for her blog, Kelly said of herself, “I like to stay busy reading, writing, and being outdoors. I’m a mom to a very sweet and active little boy named Ari. He is silly like his dad, Matt. They both bring joy and laughter to my day.”

Kelly loved to garden, hike, cook, and craft, and was a published author. Her most recent essay “This Sucks”, published in Brain, Child, garnered national recognition and was awarded the very prestigious Pushcart Prize. After being diagnosed in February of 2009 with a rare form of breast cancer, Kelly faced her prognosis and treatment with bravery, grace, and hope, giving back in equal measure the love and support her friends and family provided during that time. We remember Kelly as someone who was strong, smart, creative, cheerful and compassionate.

Kelly was strong. Born early and weighing only 3 pounds, 13 ounces, her family says “she was a fighter from the beginning.” She used this characteristic strength to face her cancer treatment, undergoing surgeries and chemotherapy treatments, caring for a toddler and continuing to live her life as fully as she could. She remained a supportive and loving friend, making sure that we who loved her were okay, too.

Kelly was smart. In an essay she wrote for the Mount Holyoke Alumnae Quarterly, Kelly said that one of the lessons she wanted to pass on to Ari was to “fall in love with learning.” She was engaged, curious, and determined. But she didn’t just learn for herself; Kelly was excited to pass along what she’d discovered, to mentor her students and share with her friends. At CSU, teachers and students alike were impressed with her commitment to learning, and while at the University of Kentucky, she won a teaching award. At her memorial service, a University of Kentucky student came to the door because he’d seen her funeral announcement in the paper and wanted to pay his respects. He stood in their backyard with Matt and told him how Kelly’s class “had changed his life.”

Kelly was creative. Kelly’s love of making things by hand was a simple joy she cultivated and shared. When she asked Ari what he wanted to be for Halloween and he answered “Whoo Whoo,” Kelly and her mom got to work making him an owl costume, sharing the process and final product on her blog. She was always on the lookout for new foods or recipes to try, or working on new projects for her home and garden. Most recently, she was learning to quilt.

Kelly was cheerful. The week on Facebook when everyone was posting their celebrity look-alike doppelganger as their profile picture, Kelly was undergoing chemo and losing her hair, so she posted a picture of Telly Savalas as her look-alike. Kelly didn’t just see the bright side; she embodied it and radiated that light.

Kelly was compassionate. In a situation where she thought someone was being taken advantage of or someone needed help, Kelly got involved. While at CSU, she was an active member of a group working towards improving conditions for adjunct teaching faculty. She made dolls for the Craft Hope Doll Project.  At her annual community garage sale, Kelly organized a bake sale that raised money for the local food bank. Kelly was always looking for ways to better the lives and community around her. She kept her heart wide open.

Kelly hoped she’d be able to pass on many lessons to Ari. As she put it, she wanted him “to grow into a joyful person, a warm friend, and an open-minded and engaged citizen.” As much as we wish Kelly could be here to do that teaching herself, all Ari really has to do to become that person is grow up to be just like his mom.

I found a poem yesterday that reminded me of her, of our loss. A few lines:

“Let us not look for you only in memory,
Where we would grow lonely without you.
You would want us to find you in presence,
Beside us when beauty brightens,
When kindness glows

and later,

“May you continue to inspire us:

To enter each day with a generous heart.
To serve the call of courage and love

This is my promise and my wish, to do these things, to honor her, to honor myself, to honor all of us.

“Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish.”

I am not an iPerson.  I appreciate the technology, am jealous of all the fun people with Apple products can have (for example: Instagram), I just don’t own any of it. When it came time for me to buy an mp3 player, I chose a Creative Zen instead of an iPod.  Instead of an iPhone, I have a Virgin Mobile pay as you go flip phone that can’t even take pictures.  And for my laptop, no iPad for me, but rather a ASUS Eee Netbook.

Part of it is that I’m cheap, and a pleasure delayer, and I try very hard to live a simple life with as little attachment to stuff as possible.  My husband and I have a long standing habit of discussing a new purchase (couch, TV, dishwasher) for at least five years before actually going through with it.  Early on it was because we didn’t have any money, later it was because we’d made a few purchases that we’d then regretted (a $500 Palm Pilot that Eric hardly used, and a 1977 Nissan 260Z that we nicknamed “the money pit”).  Then it was just that we realized if we put off a purchase, we’d have more time to consider why we wanted the thing, to think about if it were really what we wanted or if there were actually some other need we were attempting to fill that could be taken care of some other way.

So, the fact that Steve Jobs was the Apple guy isn’t why I’m sad today. I’m sad because another bright light, someone who cared about doing great work, who was creative and inspiring, was taken by cancer.

This morning, I re-watched his 2005 graduation speech at Stanford University. There are so many bright and shiny moments of truth here.

For example, “And much of what I stumbled into by following my curiosity and intuition turned out to be priceless later on.”  This is such a good reminder, that we should be following these things.  It encourages me to keep going, to stay on the path.  And I love that he says these priceless things were “stumbled into”–no graceful, choreographed moments, no plan, but rather it was messy and accidental, and there most likely was the risk of injury.

Then, “you can’t connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backwards. So you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future. You have to trust in something — your gut, destiny, life, karma, whatever. This approach has never let me down, and it has made all the difference in my life.” You can’t know where any of this will lead, you can’t wait until you have a really great idea before you start.  You have to trust in what you are doing, in what is leading you.  And be prepared, because “Sometimes life hits you in the head with a brick. Don’t lose faith, ” because that’s okay too, part of the process. If you get knocked down, get back up again. Get moving, and keep moving, and trust that it is all going to make sense in the end.

And for me, who is struggling to align my purpose, my passion with what I am doing with my life, this: “Your work is going to fill a large part of your life, and the only way to be truly satisfied is to do what you believe is great work. And the only way to do great work is to love what you do. If you haven’t found it yet, keep looking. Don’t settle. As with all matters of the heart, you’ll know when you find it.”  This, particularly, causes the butterflies in my stomach to flutter, but that’s okay, because “You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart.”

And finally, “Your time is limited, so don’t waste it living someone else’s life. Don’t be trapped by dogma — which is living with the results of other people’s thinking. Don’t let the noise of others’ opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary.”

Thank you, Steve Jobs. Thank you for reminding me to trust myself, my heart, my curiosity and my intuition.  Thank you for reminding me that I don’t have any more time to waste, that death is right there, every day.  Thank you for reminding me about the great work and trusting in the path because there is love there, and that it will manifest into something I can’t imagine for myself now, but to have faith.  Thank you for reminding me not to settle.

And to you Cancer, I don’t need to say it again, you already know how I feel about you.

  • “Stay hungry. Stay foolish.”  How can you honor these words and yourself today?