Holly with her boyfriend
High
School Homecoming season has come and gone for 2015. We learned from the news about one Homecoming Queen, the sister of another student, who had Down Syndrome. (October is Down Syndrome Awareness Month. Click here for more details). This
made me think of my cousin Holly Marie.
(I always called her by both names because my Uncle Hollis, her
grandfather, was also called Hollie.) She was adopted as an infant by my cousin
Richard and his wife Mary Anne.
She was born with Down Syndrome and several other medical problems.
We
were sad to lose Holly six years ago.
She was too young. The child is supposed to outlive the parent. Here are a few stories about her as I remember
her, and those her mom, Mary Anne related at Holly’s memorial service.
I
was able to spend a few hours with Holly here and there as she grew up. Richard’s mother, my Aunt Jeanne, made
sure that the relatives could get together a few times a year. (She was Mrs.
Hospitality. I learned much from my
Aunt Jeanne.) One time Aunt Jeanne
was babysitting Holly and she invited me and my daughter Heather to meet them
at Comstock Park in Spokane, WA where we were living at the time. We had a
lovely afternoon and even got ice cream from the ice-cream truck. I appreciated Aunt Jeanne’s efforts, as
I had never been around anyone with Downs. Holly was an easy toddler and stayed on the blanket we had
put down on the grass. (My
daughter on the other hand was off and running!)
Then
as an adult her parents were hosting a party at their home in Portland, OR. I was able to fly from Seattle, where
we were living then, to Portland for the day. I was telling everyone how Holly’s Aunt Janet wanted so much
to be there and had even thought about flying down for the day. Holly was so excited. She was extremely appreciative that
Janet had wanted to be there!
Now
here are Mary Anne’s notes from Holly’s memorial:
Honors for Holly
One way to know Holly, her sense of herself, her confidence in
her own strength and her clear and simple faith, was through her
own
words:
When Holly was 18 she was watching me pack for a trip and
asked where I was going. I was going somewhere for work, but the
destination sounded exotic to her, and she said, "You lucky
dog." I
joked back that I was the luckiest person on earth. She
considered
this for a few seconds. Then with great confidence said,
"No, I am."
When my daughter-in-law and son were expecting their first
baby there was a brief period when a misinterpreted piece of
medical
information suggested that their baby might have Down's
Syndrome.
Overhearing some bits of concerned conversation, Holly asked
what
was happening. I told her we were concerned because the baby
might have Down's Syndrome. If you know Holly, you know she was
a master of many looks. The look she gave me was somewhere
between disgust and disdain, and she said, "So?"
"Well," I said, "you
know friends that have Down's like Penny and Dave and
Andrew."
"I know what it is, but so what. They can handle it."
"Well," I said, "people with Down's Syndrome
sometimes have
heart problems, like Penny."
Holly came right back with, "Well, she can handle it. Just
like
me with my muscle problems. I can handle it."
There was nothing more for me to say.
About 3 years ago Dr. Kottingham, the pulmonologist who
cared for Holly called and suggested that Richard and I begin to
consider end of life questions for Holly. He also suggested that
we
get legal guardianship of her so that the decisions, should we
have to
make them, would be easier from a legal point of view. On our
next
visit to the doctor, he brought this up with Holly and we talked
of
many things. She was adamant that she did not want to be on a
respirator and expressed herself quite clearly. After the visit
we were in the elevator going down to the parking garage. Holly had a way of
raising difficult or private issues at inopportune times. And in the middle of
the elevator she said, "I just wish you and the doctor wouldn't talk over
me."
I said that I thought the doctor had tried to include her.
Luckily,
the elevator door opened and we stepped out. But Holly wasn't
done.
"I just have one question. Am I going to die?"
"Yes," I said. "You are going to die. Not right now, but that was
what we were talking about."
We continued across the parking lot and after a minute Holly
said, "Well, they are all waiting for me." She began
her own litany of
the saints. Grandma Jeanne and Grandpa Hollis, Grandpa
Baldhead, Uncle Dean, Cathy (her birth mother), Orly, OJ, Auntie
Pork and Auntie John, Joanne and Fred (her beloved foster
parents)
and all the way down to cousin Tommy, a second cousin of her
Grandma Jeanne who she met once when she was 7. "They are
waiting and when I get there they will have a party for me. They
can't
wait to see me." I didn't have to say anything more.
When Holly was 6, my Auntie Pork died. Pork was a family
nickname for my Aunt Ida, a very proper unmarried schoolteacher.
Pork and Holly loved each other and thoroughly enjoyed their
time
together. After Pork died, I was talking with Holly about Pork's
death,
and she asked what God would say when Auntie Pork entered
heaven. I said I didn't know but asked her what she thought God
would say when God saw her in heaven. Holly didn't hesitate and
said, "Halleluia."
Halleluia, Holly, halleluia.
Now I don’t have to say anything more and you probably don’t
have to either!
