You might have to read this column more than once this month as the story I’m about share is difficult to translate to paper, but it is just too funny to keep to myself.

With Jacob’s cancer relapse, we became eligible for another type of treatment. This time our travels took us to Michigan for three weeks.

Jacob and I were together at Children’s Hospital in Washington, D.C. when I began making the arrangements for Michigan. He sat patiently listening while I ironed out the details with the doctors. When they left he said, “Mom, I don’t understand what you’re talking about. You keep saying we’re going to ‘Mich’ again. I don’t think we’ve ever been there before, so how can we go again?”

As I tried to explain that the name of the state is “Michigan” — not “Mich” again, he only became more confused. The conversation resembled a replay of the famous “Who’s on first.” I finally gave in and said “You’re right, this is our first visit there. We are not going again.” Since that time, Michigan is  now always referred to as “Mich.”

Mich proved to be a beautiful place, and the people in Ann Arbor  were wonderful, friendly and just extremely helpful.  I can tell you that it is a very different place from New York City.   BUT, when all is said and done, there is no place like home.  And home to us is Kent Island.

Until next time,
CMH