My Dad's cousin Kathy was a good woman.  I rarely say things like that.  How do you quantify what a person is? I mean, we all have good and bad in us.  We have the parts that make us strong, independent, reliable and trustworthy.  We have selfish moments and moments when how we look matters more than how we act. We have moments when we are too proud to ask for help, no matter how easy it is to ask for help to support others.  We have moments when we want to be carried.  What makes us good and what makes us bad is impossible to measure, only with Kathy, I did.  She was a good woman because in every interaction with her, she was good to me.  She was selfless and giving.  She taught me how to be stronger than I felt I could be.  

She wasn't a cousin I grew up with.  My Dad knew her but I only heard of her as an adult.  The first time I met her, she was volunteering her time at the VA Hospital in downtown LA.  It's the one I worked at as an adolescent. Kathy was all about serving and giving. She had perfect posture with lots of height. When we met, she stepped away from her duties to teach me about our family tree.  She pulled out pen and paper and scribbled a map of my heritage.  She gave me my history.  She and I joked about my Dad's quirks and personality. She made a stressful afternoon a happy one.  

Several years later I was newly on my own.  The divorce diet had taken about 30 pounds off of me.  I was faced with finding a new job and had nothing I could wear.  I was drowning in all of my clothes. Kathy invited me over.  I sat on her couch and I was a pitiful sight.  She told me so.  I remember walking in timidly.  I could imagine how I looked and it was like a cat that went for an unwilling swim.  It was like my clothes were wrapped around me and my body was sunken in despair and I was a soaking wet cat that had just smelled something terrible and sad.  I was dealing with a lot. I no longer had a husband.  He left me for another woman, and together they left me a shell.  They had me convinced I was physically unattractive (dating apps proved that was a lie). I was told I was the problem (and yet years later I'm doing better than I have in decades). I couldn't afford groceries (now I just grab what I need without keeping a running tally so I don't go over budget because my budget is to buy what I need). My mom was bringing over the "extra" bag of potatoes or full gallon of milk she didn't need, to make sure my kids had enough to eat. I was skipping meals because I couldn't afford to eat, feed my kids, and keep the lights on (now I'm eating enough salads to make me angry because I'm not all about that massive ass expansion anymore).  I had been a full time stay at home mom for about 15 years and suddenly had to make ends meet on my own because child support and alimony aren't things I've ever had. I couldn't find a full time job on my own and was starting to look at temp agencies.  I was defeated. 

I'll never forget what she said to me that day.  

"Do you know who you are? Your bloodline is stronger than that backbone right now.  Sit up straight.  You need to walk tall like the history of the women in our lives made sacrifices and fought hard so you could live the life you have." (So, it may not be verbatim.) 

She was the one to tell me that all of who I am comes from all of the women that came before me.  She told me to stand tall and be proud.  No matter what comes, I am her kin, and we come from strong stock.  That reality check was followed by a fashion show of sorts where she went through her closets, picking out clothes for me.  She really loved her clothes and carefully kept everything on hangers, protected by plastic. By the end of our visit, I had so many things in my new size that I could pick and choose what I wanted.  I could donate what I didn't need. 

It was after this conversation that I began to walk like I mattered.  A short while later I was working at Tax Credit Co., when I first experienced the appreciative glance of a man.  It totally took me by surprise because for the first time I wasn't brushing it off or making him feel like an idiot for looking at me the way a man looks at a woman.  My walk became more masculine, more powerful.  I began leading with my shoulders, one foot directly in front of the other with my hips swaying from being off center. It was about getting where I needed to. It was about knowing who I am and where I'm going. After that, I was working at Deluxe Media when a friend would tease me for walking like a model.  I don't walk like a model.  I've never been a model.  I'm a mom. It's not a catwalk.  It's a mom walk. 

Today I met one of Kathy's daughters.  She was visiting my Dad in the hospital just as the boys and I were finishing our visit.  As we walked away, I explained to the boys who her mother was to me.  I asked if they noticed that I walk differently from most people.  They had.  They could see that I walk with my head held high.  They can see that I'm proud of who I am and the choices I make.  They know it's different and now they know who helped me get there. 

It's not enough to move through your day as if the end of the day is your goal.  It's important to step powerfully into each moment.  It's important to know that you are the current expression of everyone in your bloodline before you and that you will lead the children that follow behind you. You are a living legacy.  

Kathy passed the day my Dad went into the hospital.  It's been nearly two weeks and my Dad will be hospitalized a few more weeks, forcing him to miss her funeral. It was a double punch to my gut but her words have remained.  I will hold her memory close to me.  I will cherish all she gave me that afternoon.  I will mourn and cry because she is special to me and she will be missed.  But I will hold my head high.  I will step powerfully into each moment.  This is her legacy.  This is what she gave me that I will pass on to my children.