Butterflies, Bordeaux & Becoming

My Fifth Season: Butterflies, Bordeaux & Becoming

My Fifth Season: Butterflies, Bordeaux & Becoming

By Kathryn “Kat” Martin

Our 5th Annual Butterflies & Bordeaux looked a little different this year. Same home. Tasty bites. Old friends and a few new faces. The same spirit of love, laughter, and remembrance, but a few very important people were missing. My children. And while their absence made me sad, I found myself experiencing something unexpected. Peace. Not because everything was perfect, but because I've lived long enough, loved hard enough, and lost deeply enough to understand that everything can be different and still be okay. I know my children, and I know they wouldn't have purposely missed their brother's celebration for anything in the world. I've learned that you can spend an awful lot of time disappointed about what isn't happening or appreciate what's happening right in front of you.

I thank God for seasons. Each brings its own changes, lessons, and sometimes unexpected endings. Some seasons bless us. Others challenge everything we thought we knew about life, love, loyalty, and ourselves. Whew! I've experienced all of these, but even the seasons that take something from us can leave us with something invaluable. Wisdom. Discernment. Courage. Clarity. This is my fifth season without my son, Johnathan. Five years of learning to live without someone I never imagined living without. Five years of understanding that grief doesn't disappear; it simply changes how it shows up and five years of discovering that I can miss my son terribly while still finding reasons to laugh, celebrate, and enjoy life. Today, I feel stronger, wiser, radiant and more ready to take on the world than ever before. Not because life has been particularly kind, but because life doesn't have to be perfect to be beautiful.

The hardest thing I've ever done was watch my child transition. No disappointment, betrayal, or heartbreak has come close to losing Johnathan. Nothing. When you've watched your child fight for their life, prayed prayers you never imagined praying, and faced the reality of living without them, your perspective changes. Things that once seemed monumental become insignificant. Arguments no longer deserve your energy, and people's opinions about you carry far less weight. Johnathan's death taught me not to sweat the small stuff, and baby, all of it is small stuff. Some of the offenses we choose to carry are microscopic in comparison. Don't misunderstand me. I still get disappointed, frustrated, and occasionally ask God, "Really? You know, I don't have to get all the lessons, right?" I'm human and He loves me! But I've survived something I once believed was impossible to survive, and that changes a woman.

This past year brought experiences that certainly challenged my light. My character was questioned, my love taken for granted, and my strength mistaken for an invitation to endure more than any one person should. As if life hadn't already given me enough character-building opportunities! But I've really began to understand something about the human condition I already knew. Hurt people sometimes hurt people, and the line between love and resentment can be thinner than we'd like to believe. Even those who once promised forever can have a change of heart. I've also learned that not everyone who benefits from your light will celebrate your shine, and not everyone who walks beside you is meant to accompany you into your next season. Hard truths right, but necessary ones, especially for someone like me. I want to fix everything and everyone and quickly get back on track, but I'm learning to be lean in this season and through it all, I hear God gently reminding me, "Daughter, you are enough, and I am not through with you yet."

Even when relationships change, doors close, and life looks nothing like I imagined, because a changed life isn't necessarily a diminished life. Sometimes it's the beginning of something extraordinary. These past five years have taught me that I don't have to remain the woman everyone has grown accustomed to. I'm allowed to grow, establish boundaries, change my mind, and stop explaining myself to people determined to misunderstand me. I've spent much of my life being everything to everyone. Mother. Wife. Caregiver. Community leader. Problem solver. I wouldn't trade the love I've poured into others for anything. That is authentically who I am, how God designed me but I've realized something. I deserve that same love, consideration, and effort, too. Imagine that!

So going forward, I am learning to forgive without granting access. I can love someone without losing myself. I can wish people well without accompanying them on their journey and I can honor my past without allowing it to dictate my future. I'm still a mother. Still Johnathan's mother. Still committed to serving others through Melanated Melon and real estate but I'm also a woman with dreams of her own. I still want to love, laugh, travel, build meaningful relationships, and experience everything beautiful this life has to offer. There is nothing selfish about wanting joy after surviving sorrow.

Butterflies & Bordeaux has always been about more than good food, great company, and a glass of wine. Although, let's be clear, I enjoy all three! It's about honoring those we've lost while celebrating the life still happening around us. It's about creating space where grief and joy can coexist and it's about transformation. A butterfly doesn't emerge from its cocoon looking anything like it did when it entered. Neither do we. Life changes us. Loss changes us. Love changes us, and sometimes, the experiences we never would have chosen teach us the most about ourselves. Transformation isn't always a tragedy. Sometimes it's a testimony. I'm certainly not the woman I was a year ago, and I'm so proud of that.

This year's gathering reminded me that two things can be true at once. I can miss my children and still enjoy the beautiful people who showed up. I can grieve Johnathan and still laugh until my eyes are wet. I can experience disappointment and remain grateful for my blessings, and just because this chapter has been difficult doesn't mean my entire story is tragic. Honey, there's still a whole lot of living left to do! I've spent enough time trying to hold everything together. These days, I'm learning to be okay even when everything around me isn't. Peace isn't always the absence of chaos. Sometimes it's deciding that chaos no longer gets to live here, and I've worked too hard for my peace to surrender it now.

As I reflect on our fifth Butterflies & Bordeaux, I'm celebrating more than another beautiful gathering. I'm celebrating the woman who made it here. The woman who relinquished her child to the Lord, endured tremendous loss and unexpected changes, yet still believes life has beautiful things in store. The woman who loves deeply, laughs until she cries, dreams boldly, and refuses to let life's hardest chapters define her entire story. To everyone who joined us, thank you for continuing to honor Johnathan's life alongside me. To those who couldn't be here, whether separated by distance, circumstances, or the heavens themselves, you were missed and remembered and to my sweet Johnathan, my forever reason, I hope I'm making you proud son. Your life taught me the depth of a mother's love. Your passing taught me the fragility of time. Your legacy reminds me that what we do with our days matters far more than how many we're given.

Five seasons later, I'm still standing. Still growing. Still becoming. Still looking forward to what's next. I've survived the kind of loss that changes a woman forever. So believe me when I tell you, I'm no longer afraid of changing seasons. I've survived the worst of them, and somehow, I still find reasons to smile, laugh, love, and look forward to tomorrow. That's not just resilience, baby. That's grace. Here's to the butterflies, the memories, the people who continue to show up, and the beautiful seasons still ahead, because even after the hardest winter, I still deserve to experience spring. My story didn't end when my life changed and neither did my purpose.

With love, grace, and a little KatTastic spirit,

Kat

Greyson, Rasheed, Everett, Eden and Johnathan we love and miss you all so much.