Holley Thompson - 29 Dec 1962 to 22 Mar 2009
I've been meaning to catch up with my friend Holley, whom I first met around 1990 when she started handling my travel arrangements for my frequent business trips. The short "I'm flying to New York" conversations got longer as we chatted and flirted, until I eventually figured out that I should accept her invitation to go skiing with her someday.
In my second year of skiing, she needed a tenth person to round out a GS Racing team. She said it didn't matter that I was still snowplowing down the green-level runs: any tenth warm body would do. She was desperate to get to the finals in Keystone Colorado, and without a team, it wouldn't happen.
So, I started skiing with her on the race team. Every weekend throughout the season, we'd hit a resort, alternating between local resorts on Mt Hood, and regional resorts in the area. Every weekend, the fastest time for my group would be something like 18 seconds. The second slowest time would be 25 seconds. Mine would be 35. I was the only racer who had not learned to parallel ski.
But I didn't care. It was social, it was fun, it was hot toddies next to the raging fire in the fireplace at the end of the day. And always Holley's warm smile and laughter. That girl could laugh.
While most of the competing teams would hit the Portland weekends, very few of them would make it to the regional races. Thus, because I had stamina (and Holley's travel agent discount for hotels), I was at every race, and accumulated more points than any other male on the team in the low-rung category.
And thus, ironically, I was chosen to go to nationals, being the best of the worst, purely on points, never having won a single race the entire season. Holley glared at me, because they didn't take her: she won enough races to get into the top division, and was the bottom of the top. I savored that all-expense paid trip to Keystone, and snowplowed my way through the finals, being the only one on the hill who had never parallel-skiied.
Holley and I picked Karaoke as a means of entertainment during the off-season, and began next year with snowboarding. We boarded a couple more years, before I got busy and she went her own way. We hung out with the occasional Karaoke session over the years, but the last time I saw her was probably five years ago.
Her phone number in my iPhone had long been dead... I googled her name occasionally to try to find her. I knew she had a pet boarding/grooming business, and found some old posts with references to that, but nothing current.
On a whim, a couple of hours ago, I googled for her name again, since she had crossed my mind earlier today. I found an obituary, saying she had passed away two months ago. I had to re-read it three times to verify that it was really her. But I'm sure it is. It mentions her then-boyfriend, now apparently husband Mark, and her daughter Shelby.
I guess at age 47, it's time to start thinking that maybe 10% of your friends and loved ones will be gone already. But I really wasn't ready for this one either.
Holley, I will miss you. I'm sorry we didn't get a chance to say goodbye. I hope they have skiing and karaoke where you are, with no waiting.
Goodbye, friend Holley.
Comments