Holly

I met Holly at Clara Barton Junior High. We didn’t hang out together. I thought she was too pretty for me. That thought continued throughout high school during our four years at George A. Dondero. In addition to being beautiful, she was cool. I didn’t find my own cool until halfway through my sophomore year of college. Once I found it, it stuck. I’m sure you’ll agree.

I’ve written about her before. The first story was Like – Lust – Love on Valentine’s Day in 2018. The second was Like-Lust-Love 2.0 seven years later. While my lot in life had changed, Holly’s role in mine remained unaltered. The last time we saw each other was at our twentieth high school reunion forty years ago. Our sixtieth is tomorrow. Neither one of us will be attending.

If you haven’t read of our encounter before, here’s a snippet.

Early in the evening of our twentieth high school reunion, Mitch, Rick, and I were standing shoulder to shoulder looking at the crowd of classmates and reminiscing about past events when Holly approached the three of us. Holly was one of the most beautiful girls in our class. She said hello and unexpectedly kissed each one of us. Mitch and I were happily surprised, but Rick was even more so.

After Holly kissed Rick, he released a brief sigh and said very clearly, “I’ve been dreaming of this day for the past twenty years.”

Three weeks ago, one of our fellow graduates, Rudy, sent a message to me. He let me know that Holly’s husband, Gus, had passed. He didn’t know any of the particulars regarding Gus’s death, but since Holly and I live in The Villages, he asked for me to look in on her as things cleared. He thought that my experience with the loss of a spouse might be helpful to Holly. I was still in Michigan but told Rudy I’d reach out when I returned to The Villages.

I saw Gus’s obituary a couple days later. He died on September 11th. That would have been Ruth and my 54th wedding anniversary. The notice also referenced the church that the two attended, Unity Spiritual Center Church. I knew of the church because I’d been invited to attend a service there last winter by a new friend I’d made, Barbara. I didn’t go, but when I read the name, I wondered if Barbara knew Holly, so I contacted her. She did.

Holly and Gus attended the Church of Today in Warren, Michigan in the mid-90’s. Barbara was an associate minister there. That’s how they met. Barbara went on to found her own church and lost track of Holly and Gus following her move. They reconnected in Florida about thirty years later at Fruitland Parks’ Unity Spiritual Center Church. Small world.

After Barbara lost her partner, Phil, she changed churches. The drive to and from Unity brought back memories and tears, so she sought a different one and, in the process, lost track of Holly and Gus.

Once I contacted Barbara regarding Gus’s death, she reached out to Holly, and they reconnected. When I arrived in Florida, Barbara and I visited Holly too. I retold the story of our twentieth high school reunion and the kisses that Mitch, Rick and I received. There were no kisses this time, but we did share a hug and a laugh.

Forty years have passed since that encounter in 1985. I still remember and cherish it. If it weren’t for the kiss on the cheek, I don’t think Holly and I would be sharing our losses. If I hadn’t met Barbara, she might not know of Gus’s passing. I know for sure that the three of us wouldn’t be trying to help each other through trying times.

I don’t know how people connect, but we do. It’s how the universe works. We don’t always understand spirituality because we can’t see it. I don’t know if this story began with a kiss on the cheek, or the death of a spouse, but I’m very certain that three losses connected three people when they needed it most.