Farewell to KJ

March 18, 2025. 2:20 AM. Text Message: "Kathy is now in the arms of Jesus."

It's mid-October 2025, and I sit in my classroom across the hall from where Kathy used to sit every day. We used to wave to each other, and she would come over to my room for a brief chat, a cup of coffee, or both. She was hired to fill a teacher opening that had been unfilled for more than two years, and she took up her duties with great enthusiasm. We became friends quickly, but in late 2023, we had a dust-up that injured feelings and caused us to be estranged for several months. When I finally came to my senses and sought to make peace, she was more than ready to forgive, and I'm so glad we did.

When she fell ill, I offered my support to her. She seemed surprised, but I kept saying, "This is what friends do." The last two times I saw her were her final two days at work. She arrived in severe pain and couldn't remain at the facility. I assisted her to her car each day, taking care of notifying our supervisor and her students that she wouldn't be available for classes. I did not see her again.

We texted and emailed each other frequently, and we spoke by phone once or twice while she sought treatment. She was supposed to have chemo to shrink the tumor, followed by surgery. The chemo didn't work. She never thought that the cancer would defeat her. She referred to our workplace as her "family," and she was confident that she would defeat cancer and return to us. "I'll be back in June," she always said. "'The guys need me. Tell them I'll be back."

"The guys" asked about her often, including the ones who didn't like her because she didn't put up with their nonsense. As soon as they knew that her health was in trouble, all disputes melted away. She was tough with them, but deep down, they appreciated that.

I have kept the texts she sent me--the ones that began the first day I helped her to her car, September 28, 2024. She frequently inquired about my wife, sons, and other family members, and she prayed for them. I coordinated with coworkers to get some food delivered to her, and former coworkers took care of her kitty-cats, as she called them. Some of the residents made her a gigantic holiday card. I took a picture of it and texted it to her. She got the biggest kick out of that!

Kathy fought to live. She fought every day. She told our bosses that she would return to work in the spring. No matter how dire her situation looked, she believed she would overcome it and return to "the guys." She prayed for them. Unbeknownst to her, they prayed for her. And when the day arrived when her fight was over, they cried for her. Many still miss her.

Kathy was a force to be reckoned with. She did not suffer fools gladly. She taught accountability, respect, and insisted on maintaining a growth mindset at all times. Her classroom was adorned with reminders to develop resilience and a growth mindset, to leave behind a victimhood mentality, and to embrace bettering oneself for the present and future. She lived it by example, and in her illness and death, more men at the facility saw the reality of her mindset.

A year before she became ill, she was assigned the task of creating a Scrabble team that would compete in a tournament. The winner would go on to compete against the winners from other correctional facilities. Kathy jumped in with gusto. She advertised to all the housing units, hosted daily Scrabble practice, and held practice events with prizes, plus food from the culinary arts program. A state official, who was the number two player in the state, attended these events to teach the inmates better strategies for winning. The official tournament was held on a weekend, and turnout was great.

This year, in her absence, the tournament has been named for her, and it was a great success once again. When a memorial service was held for her, one of our colleagues presented a handcrafted wooden cat that he had painted black, like her favorite cat. Around the cat's neck was a red collar with the word "Scrabble" written on it. Scrabble the cat now sits on a bookshelf above the seat where Kathy used to sit in the library every day, in loving memory of our dear friend.

I could say so much more. She was born in Poland under communist rule. Eventually, she was adopted by an American couple. She was highly educated, and she and a friend traveled the world. While she had a bright, larger-than-life public persona, it was who she was behind the scenes that created the greatest buzz after she passed. When coworkers were out of work for any reason, Kathy was calling or visiting them, sending cards, taking meals, or taking them out to eat. She had a heart of gold for her coworkers, and her love for them was shown quietly, though it abounded to them in great blessings. Her growth mindset worked wonders in many lives. Any awkwardness she displayed at work when using the two-way radio was diminished by the kindness she showed to so many of the men and women who weren't expecting it from her.

Now, a year has passed since Kathy began treatment. Someone has been hired to fill the opening she left. His responsibilities will be different from hers. In fact, I'm doing most of what she had done, and I am trying to move, too. A colleague is retiring in another part of our facility, and I have applied for his job. It would be a lateral move, but I have been in my current location for fourteen years, and two dear friends have come and gone. One left the job for a better fit elsewhere. The other is Kathy. And honestly, I need to be where I don't have constant reminders of them, but I still like what I do.

If the bosses move me to the retiring man's place, then the transition will be smooth. They'll have to hire for my job, but the new man taking up where Kathy was working will hold everything together very well until my spot can be filled. Otherwise, it'll be almost a year before the retiring coworker's spot will be filled, because they'll require several months of specialized training. Sigh. State government never takes the simple, logical approach.

Kathy knew Jesus, so she knew where she was going. I know Jesus, too, so I look forward to the day that I leave all this nonsense behind and join Jesus face to face. Until then, I try to maintain a growth mindset, be good to everyone like Kathy did, and push others to do the same. I miss you, Kathy, but I'll see you again someday!