Little Acts of Kindness Linger After You're Gone.....

Little Acts of Kindness which Linger After You’re Gone

Little did I know the value of three simple, white stones when Kathy Garriott laid them on my desk on May 7, 2008.    Kathy was a gift-giver in very sweet and precious ways….she gave as one would who knew their giving time was short.  And, her’s was….and, the gifts she gave to me are ones which changed me forever…..and for the better.

Over the years, Kathy and her mother, Nancy have given me very lovely earthly gifts….trips together to Cincy and Louisville to see works of art called “The Phantom of the Opera”, “The Ballet”, fine dining, free-spirited laughter and precious friendship.

Kathy personally has blessed me with UK blue earrings from trips to Boston and bottles of wine from a local vineyard.  Upon learning that I really didn’t drink, she returned the bottle of wine and purchased me a very lovely gift in its stead.  In so doing, she gave me the gift of honor.

Kathy gave me the gift of her listening and her time.  During the brief six years we knew each other, Kathy went through many journeys with me….being a new employee, being one of two non-family members in a family run business, breast cancer, divorce, child-rearing matters and moments of confidential confidences which I am certain she took with her when she left us.

It was a daily thing for me to sit in the chair at the front of her office while she sat at her desk to talk “life”…..I still go in her office on occasion and sit there and if I am still, I believe her laughter really is what I hear.

Kathy asked me to “house sit” for her on several occasions, which now, as I look back on those times, realize she was providing me a place for peace and solitude during a very hard season in my life.  House sitting for Kathy was a true experience of Tuscan living….her home is a masterpiece of loveliness, beautiful things and warm rays of love.  I will always cherish those days my children and I “house sat” for Kathy enjoying the sunrises and sunsets each evening.  And, we were safe at Kathy’s house….a true gift.

In fact, I always felt safe with Kathy.  Safe in sharing my joys and just as safe in sharing my sorrows.  Safe in sharing my accomplishments without her thinking I was a braggart and safe in sharing my sins without her thinking I was a doomed sinner.

Kathy did not have a high opinion of people who called themselves “Christians” preferring instead those who chose to live as Christ.  She said to me very shortly after we met that Christians were some of the worst people she knew…judging rather than loving, condemning rather than forgiving.  She very bluntly let me know that my faith was something I would need to “be” and “live” and “do” if I wanted her to believe that I was sincere.  She had reasons for her belief and challenged my thinking at every turn of my life in ways no other person has ever done.

And, I miss her so much.

And, I miss so many things about her…

Her wit was sharp and quick and striking.  Her laughter was sweet, and tenacious and infectious.  She was humble yet proud.  She was kind yet discerning.  She was silly yet mature.

Kathy challenged everything about my personhood…which is what true friends, “Velveteen Rabbit” kinds of friends do.  She taught me to be real and honest and truthful.  She taught me how to cry, to weep and to mourn in ways no other person had ever taught me.

She taught me that it was okay to have “pity parties” as long as they only lasted one day and then you got on with your life.  And, when I would give into the need for such a party, if it lasted too long, she would tell me to buck up and get moving.

When I told her about my false white-picket-fence home life, she said, change it.

When I told her about my marriage illness, she told me to fight to heal it.

When I shared that my marriage might not survive, she told me to fight like hell to save it and if I couldn’t to fight like hell to let it go.

Kathy was the very first person to know that I had to go back for a re-check of my breast when I was being diagnosed with breast cancer.  I still have her e-mail…

“Kid…it’s going to be okay.  It’s going to be okay because it has to be.  You have children depending on you.  Go pamper yourself, be kind and tender with yourself, go have a pity party for the day and then buckle up for the ride of your life and get on with your life.”

Kathy was  with me when my primary doctor confirmed my cancer diagnosis.  Kathy held me as I wept for who I had been “bbc” (before breast cancer) and she gave me confidence that I would survive “PBC” (post-breast cancer).

She held my hand, kicked my butt, talked to me firmly and cried with me.  She told me dirty jokes and silly tales and let me in on her own fears and worries and cancer thoughts from her personal experience.

She convinced me that I could do this cancer thing….

And, she was right.

Because cancer is a “thing” and all you can do is the best you can do with what you have to “do” it with.

Kathy and I had cancer together with one difference.

I am here.

She is gone.

She told me before she died not to be upset too much when I survived and she did not.  What a precious gift….to know that I would have guilt and to address that head on. 

In January 2007, Kathy was diagnosed with breast cancer….then lung cancer…then all over her body cancer.  Cancer ate up everything in its path on Kathy’s body

But it lost the battle to destroying her heart.

Until the very last, Kathy’s spirit fought valiantly and positively and with her whole heart.  She outwardly refused to “get into the boat” of acceptance until that time where she had to “get into the boat” of acceptance.  And, all the time in-between, she fought the good fight….nobly….proudly….and serenely.

I watched her as she journeyed from initial diagnosis to final rest.

Etched on my heart forever is the day I walked past her office and saw her waif-like frame, pinkish white scalp leaning into the sunlight streaming across her desk.  Many was the time when I saw her lift accepting eyes and dainty nose to soak up the day’s rays of golden peace.

On an occasion or two, I even saw her let smallish tears trickle down her cheeks…and, once was privileged to wipe them away with fresh tissue….no words spoken.  None needed.

Times together in her office became me sitting in my chair and hers sitting in hers saying nothing….tears pressing hard against our eyelids….

Peace was in that room….and gentleness…and kindness….and sweetness.  And, even today, when I cross paths with her office, I still feel her presence….

When I finished my own breast cancer treatments, which fortunately for me, were simple and few, Kathy graced my desk with an exceptionally lovely bouquet of flowers and a small, blue bag filled with stones.

I remember well….stretching open the small sack as she said….”These are your touchstones to add to your faith walk….to buoy you and to remind you that this, too, shall pass….we have no promises of longevity of life…but, we can promise ourselves how we shall make the journey.”

Kathy explained that she had many, many stones to choses from, but that the three she selected were what she thought might help me most…

Faith

Harmony

Serenity

And, they did.

I have touched and held and cradled these stones many times during my walk.  I have glanced across my desk to where they lay and smiled.  On a particularly challenging day, I have prayed for these things…faith, harmony and serenity.

And, as certain as I can be of anything earthly, I know that Kathy’s gift of these stones has made my own steps on the stones of my life more serene…more harmonious…more  faithful.

 Such smallish reminders to me of what a gift is this life….what a gift is our friendships….

What a gift is our bond.

And, what a gift it was to have my brief time with Kathy.

 Blessings,

Lesa

Kathryn Venice Phares Garriott  July 11, 1954 – December 16, 2010