Katherine

“You don’t know this new me. I put back my pieces differently.”

- High Poets Society

Stepping into the two story soft white brick colonial home, inhale and exhale played on repeat in my head. In the corner of my eye, I saw a timeless mahogany table that filled the entire space of the formal dining room. The grand floor was staged perfectly for the arrival of Katherine, the oldest of four, the collegiate swimmer, the first grandchild of seven on Jon’s side, and most supreme the little girl that remains the apple of her dad's eye. The kitchen bar was decorated with fresh cheeses, perfectly cut and folded meats, a mustard sauce that paired nicely, and jams with berries that represent the season of spring in Maryland. The laughter that filled the space between us was captivated with updates of Katherine’s day-to-day life, her recent accomplishments, and at this time in our life, how we were handling the pandemic. Her dad managed his dance between each pot making certain the homemade meatballs and sauce were marrying together out of respect for his Italian heritage. Gazing every so often to see Jon pop a few Twizzlers from his secret stash into his mouth, following each with a sip of red wine and a shimmy of anticipation. Kay however, was latched on to her blonde hair blue eyed daughter that never really came home, but on this spring day she brought with her a girl. Katherine brought me, the southern lady from Alabama who knew a different childhood than hers.

On the third night of family dinner, in the state that birthed the U.S. national anthem, I found my place toward the end of the grand dining room table. This seat allowed me a vantage point into the eyes of Katherine. As I discerned the energy among us, I caught sight of the invisible words that floated from her mind, “Do they really see me, do they love me for who I am? Do they think I am worth it?" We passed around exemplary steamed broccoli and a salad bowl that celebrated bright colors and fresh ingredients. Vincent Van Gogh would have been proud of Jon’s salad that he claims “Oh that, I just threw it together." Katherine often reminisces on her family dinners as a child, as she would tell me it was Kay’s church. Sunday night dinners were Kay’s method of celebrating family. During this service, everything not only had to look perfect, but seem perfect for the visit of Katherine. Kay and Jon talked of Katherine’s gold medals, record swimming times, her early success as a figure skater, and how she was selected among hundreds for her job where she is quickly climbing the ladder. During sips of wine and seconds of salad, I saw someone I love celebrated for the things she accomplished, major goals she reached, her paramount victories all without any mention of failures or struggle. Among glory day talks and picture reels I saw a sadness tread across her eyes and body language. I wonder, when will she be celebrated for who she is now, and would she still be adored in her failures?

My mind drifted to…

“Without reaching our goals, are we still valuable?“

As we tucked ourselves in for the night, bellies full of the three course meal shared around the iconic table, I moved towards Katherine, embraced her, then whispered “my dear remember, I see you for who you are without any records or medals, you are still valuable." In the twilight a faint tear fell from the corner of her eye. In this moment, I placed my admiration for her, in who she was not her accomplishments. Listening to Katherine's sleep take over her as her breaths grew longer and deeper in the midnight hour, I sketched the shadows from trees that danced the ceiling of her youngest brother's room. Lost in my inner thoughts I was humbled by, “Have we stopped admiring those in our life for who they are, not based on what they have done lately?" Even deeper, “Do I just give admiration to others based on success, versus the living breathing person they are now.” Among the house of Crawford, in my solitude I drifted to my sister Renee. The youngest Jones sister, the tender hearted soul that really carries the heaviest weight from my parents divorce. I recall all the times I failed to love her for the mess she made or the failures she added to her resume. Why did I only praise her or offer encouragement when she was doing something I thought was successful? Oh how badly I missed the mark, on truly giving my admiration without ANY underlying structure. Engaging again with my now, I rolled and pulled the white quilt over my body as Renee maintained weight on my heart and mind. Slowing falling into my slumber, I wished and hoped I could undo my misdoing.

At times we can all be trapped on a hamster wheel chasing an idea of what looks like the life we should be living or chasing after the image of what we are supposed to accomplish. Give yourself relief and get the hell off the wheel. Ask yourself is this YOUR plan? Are these YOUR goals, YOUR dreams? High Poets tell us that the new you or me is still us just transformed into something beautifully different. Against the belief systems in which I was raised, and also the one I saw Katherine fight against “if you make a mistake you better try harder and do more next time.” Don't misunderstand, I believe in grit and hard work, but I push away the idea that mistakes can look like shame versus an opportunity to grow and most importantly still be loved. That this version of you will always be accepted. As my sister Emma would say, “ you will always have a seat at my table.” The idea that no matter what, you are accepted. From my point of view this is an image of true love.

I ask you,

How do we pursue success through grit, without popularity?

Fast Forward a year and some change, I am sitting at a quaint restored oak dining room table from my Nana, where the bright retro chairs are mixed in color. This time the home belongs to Katherine and me. My younger sister finally made the trip down to the sunshine state to visit one of her older sisters. Leading up to her visit, I wanted everything to be perfect. I sent Katherine on multiple grocery runs and cleaned the house not once, but five times before her arrival on a Friday afternoon. We sat as a new family uncovering the news and changes in each other's lives. Dinner plates were cleaned and a new bottle of wine opened for a few rounds of cards. In the midst of laughter and some much desired heart-to-heart, Renee looked over at me and with a familiar tear forming exclaimed, “Sis, I promise I am really trying”. Deja-vu took over me as I saw these words running across the blackboard in my brain. “Do I just give admiration to others based on success, versus the living breathing person they are now.” In full transparency I felt ashamed, I had shown my baby sister a love that seemed to be contingent on how popular or how right she was living based on her career and status. I did not know the new Renee, just as years ago Katherine’s family did not know the new her. As I jumped fast into the undoing I had wished for, I reached across the oak table and grabbed her by the hand, gazed into her calm indigo eyes and pronounced, “Hey, I love you for you, trying or not, just you sis.”

My wish for you my confidantes is that you are creating a space where others can see the person you are now, and the person YOU want to become. When life gives you the opportunity to undo patterns where we all unintentionally miss the mark, remember that everyone has the chance to show you the new them, the same person just put back differently. Moving forward I promise you my confidantes, my Katherine, and my little sister Renee, I honestly give my love and admiration to you, no contingencies, no success criteria, I give to you based on the fact that I get to love you, the living breathing person that you are now.

Sending all my love until next time,

-your confidante