The Mail: Kathy

This continues a series on the real mail I've recently received and the person behind the parcel.

My mail delivery has undergone some changes recently. Mike used to deliver it in the late afternoon, but after many years on our route, I discovered he was no longer our carrier. He had been replaced by a woman whose name I don't know who now delivers in the morning. On this particular day, I was pretty sure I had not seen her head go by my home office window, but then again, I might have missed her being so engrossed in my work. Around 5:30 or so, my neighbor texted me, "You have a package." I guess the mail had come after all.

An Easter assortment

Sitting under the mailbox next to the door was a small box from a familiar address. I wasn't expecting anything from Kathy, so I was intrigued. Inside was a hodgepodge of little things: an Easter card, a Salvadoran cross, a book I had lent her, and this 3D emoji, inside which was a tiny note directing me to a particular passage in the book she had returned. Though there was no grass nor chocolate to speak of, it certainly felt like an Easter basket to me. I started to cry. Kathy called in the midst of my weeping, and when she asked why I was crying, I sobbed that I had gotten this Easter basket in the mail.

The littlest things invoke some of the biggest tears these days.

I first met Kathy in 2013, at a multigenerational women's retreat. The topic was Wisdom. I knew two people on the retreat, the leader who invited me and a friend my age who was discerning religious life. For an introvert, a scenario like this always invokes a little bit of panic; however, at the time, I was in church ministry and was happy to be "off" and just making a retreat for myself. On Saturday, Kathy and I had a one-on-one together, and while I don't remember what we talked about specifically, I remember feeling listened to and at peace, so much so that I wrote to her after the retreat to express my gratitude. And she wrote back. She always does, I discovered. She has a gift for words.

Our paths did not cross for a few more years. The retreat always fell during one of the busiest ministry seasons, but in 2017, I found myself unemployed and with lots of time on my hands. Soon I was invited to be on the retreat team and once again after a retreat, I had written to Kathy to express my gratitude for her presence and my support for her. It seemed like she was going through a difficult time. It took a few weeks for us to connect again in person. I remember walking through Shaker Heights on a March day with the bluest of skies talking about all kinds of experiences we had and people we knew in which we knew God's presence. It felt easy to confide in one another, just as it did on that first retreat.

Epic road trip stop to see Kathy's lifelong friend, Peggy,
in Charlottesville, Virginia

Over these last two years since we reconnected, our friendship has deepened substantially through faith sharing with Henri Nouwen and Richard Rohr; hikes in the woods; tours of various parts of Cleveland; editing projects; cooking together; a major move and all that comes with that; an epic road trip up and down the East Coast; tech support, and going to church followed by Sunday breakfast. There's eucharist with a capital E and then there's eucharist with a little E. The latter is my favorite thing we do together. It's become a tradition, one that we've tried to keep even during pandemic days. Gathering at table is a holy act: bread is broken, eggs are poached, coffee is poured. Mostly, it is simply good "to be" and to be with each other. Kathy is friend, mentor, and at times, mom. I am grateful for the little Easter box with all of its little pieces and parts and look forward to sharing eucharist once again.

The two disciples whom Jesus joined on the road to Emmaus recognized him in the breaking of the bread. What is a more common, ordinary gesture than breaking bread? It may be the most human of all human gestures: a gesture of hospitality, friendship, care, and the desire to be together. Taking a loaf of bread, blessing it, breaking it, and giving it to those seated around the table signifies unity, community, and peace. When Jesus does this he does the most ordinary as well as the most extraordinary. It is the most human as well as the most divine gesture. —Henri Nouwen, Bread for the Journey: A Daybook of Wisdom and Faith (2006)