When Kindness Becomes a Legacy
At the 2025 Speaker Slam® Grand Slam, the Inspirational Speaking Finals held at CBC Glenn Gould Studio in Toronto, Jenni Cathcart took the stage with a five minute story.
Transcript
Yes. Hi Jenny, it's Kate. The sky is so blue. The sun is shining. I hope you're outside today enjoying this beautiful winter day. When I heard her voicemail, I never would have guessed it would be the last time I'd hear her voice. The next day, they found Kate. She had a to-do list in her pocket. All of the items were checked off. The pills that she promised she was taking every day. They were all still in the bottle. She had sent her daughter away a few weeks prior.
At the time, I thought it was to give her space to heal. In retrospect, I see it as an act of a drowning woman whose last selfless act was to lift the person she loved most in the world to higher ground. I'm told that she did her hair, her makeup, she put on a nice outfit. It didn't make any sense to me cuz Kate didn't care about appearances. She had red straight hair. It was a no fuss style. She had these beautiful light blue eyes that shone, but she didn't wear any makeup.
She dressed practically. loose- fitting jeans, a cozy wool sweater, a cardinal red barn coat that went down to her hips. The irony of the situation still pains me. Kate didn't want to burden anyone even in that moment, even though she was the one who carried many of our burdens. Kate looked after our whole neighborhood. She was the one that would help you in any way she could. She also made sure that there was nothing going on that shouldn't be. I felt safer just knowing she was there.
Her generosity took so many forms. It came in the form of slices of orange honey cake served fresh from the oven, an invitation to go apple picking, lavender plants for my front garden, but the most thoughtful gift of all came one birthday. [snorts] Kate had noticed that my husband and I were struggling. We had two demanding jobs, three spirited school-aged children, and we rarely had time to have a whole conversation with each other. So, she invited us over for a birthday dinner, and she sent her teenage daughter over to our house to watch the kids.
When we arrived, she ushered us back into her backyard where there was this beautiful platter of sushi, a chilled bottle of wine, and then Kate disappeared inside, leaving us to quietly reconnect. Kate listened so deeply. I would feel it in my bones. When I'd go to her house, I would sit on her cream colored couch, my legs tucked under me. I'd be holding a mug of hot tea. [snorts] Kate would sit across from me, holding space for my confidences. Kate loved the outdoors, so it was only fitting that there was a bench and a tree that were dedicated to her memory.
It's down by the lake, a place where her daughter and she once stood so still that birds landed on them. The first time I was there, a cardinal ellighted on the back of the bench. It cocked its head and gazed at me. It was about this far away. In that moment, I had this strange sense that it was Kate telling me that she was still listening. Kate's legacy lives on through those of us who experienced the warm generosity she offered. Her daughter, who came to live with us for a time, is now a third year in university, and she's thriving.
Kate changed me, too. I now reach out to people who are struggling even if I don't know them because what I have realized is that having the courage to connect is a generous choice that each one of us can make again and again. [snorts] And I know that's what Kate would do. Thank you. Thank you.
Transcript generated from the recording and lightly cleaned. Some names and wording may differ from the spoken speech.
