I guess it must have been sometime around February of last year when Katie blew into my life unannounced and changed my world for a brief time, and I will always be grateful.
The first mention of her came when my boss, who worked three hours north of me in a different area of the state, told me he was considering hiring another mortgage loan officer for my region. He wanted to know if I would interview a potential candidate. There was some concern over her lack of experience since her prior position had been as an assistant, not a loan originator, and her exposure to the industry had been brief (worries which all proved to be unfounded). Her name was Katie.
I interviewed Katie at a Mexican restaurant. and within ten minutes of meeting her, I learned four things about her: she was a Christian like me, she was gluten-free like me, her favorite food was Mexican, and so was mine, and she loved doing mortgages like I did. I gave a good report to my boss and we hired her.
And then the "Katie" part of my life started--a period of time I'll always treasure. I was tasked with training her, so we spent the better part of every day together. I took her to meet my contacts, organized lunches with referral sources, logged long travel hours when we attended training events together, and went out for dinner with her when our husbands were working late. It didn't take long to find that we shared similar interests and values, and enjoyed the same kinds of things. The crassness of the general public and the unkindness of some co-workers offended us both, while the simple pleasures of life delighted us equally.
Katie was sincere, sweet, capable, and humble through and through. She appreciated the fact that the bank was willing to train her in a new career, and thanked me repeatedly for my recommendation to hire her. I loved her attitude, respected her intelligence, and enjoyed her company. Our time together took on a new face as we became friends.
Time passed, as it always does. Health issues forced my retirement from the bank a little more than three months ago, and my once-timid, now assured protege inherited my book of business. Her calls and texts for help slowly dried up, going from multiple contacts daily to once every week or two, as she grew into her position with grace and maturity. Clients and referral sources began to call her directly, not because I recommended her, but because she became known in the community as a good loan officer.
One day soon after my retirement, we met for lunch and I gave Katie a gift. It was the equivalent of her inheritance from me. I wrote a poem and wrapped it up with a little desk statue--one that had been passed to me from my mentor and good friend, Joan when she retired. The poem was this one. It is a compilation of all the best principles I've collected over my career:
Dory’s Rules for Originators
Earn your place in this industry.
Everybody is somebody’s family member.
Treat them as if they were yours.
Repay evil with good.
People won’t understand mortgage. That’s your job.
Do the right thing every time.
This is a messy business. It’s usually not your fault.
Know when to cut your losses and walk away.
Your time isn’t free.
Be honest with your clients.
A fast “No” is better than a slow one.
Find the client’s greatest problem and solve it.
You have a right to an undisturbed vacation.
Your evenings belong to you-- without guilt.
Your husband is your most important client...every time.
I’m your biggest fan.
You can cry with me or rejoice with me
or call me at midnight. I believe in you!
On the way home from that goodbye, I cried my heart out. I cried happy tears because Katie had come into her own and had just finished training her successor here, passing on all the principles I had taught her; she didn't need me anymore. I cried sorrowful tears because my friend was leaving and I probably will never see her again. And I cried tears of loss because a career I loved had run its full course. Katie was my last link to a career that had provided satisfaction and joy for the last 20 years of my life. She was the last person who needed me, who wanted to talk shop, who needed to ask questions. This was a final goodbye, in more than one way.
This might not have been a very interesting read for anyone else-- that's okay, it's really for Katie and me. But my heart feels better because I let it talk for a minute. So now, I'm ready to finish it.
Goodbye, mortgage banking. It was a good run.
Goodbye, Katie. I'm so proud of you.
No comments:
Post a Comment