There’s no reason I should have to write an obituary with such a short span of years, but the ravages of cancer require such mathematical adjustments.
The Fresno community lost a truly special lady, Holly Carter.
I know Holly from the 2008 election, where she coordinated a media event the day Sarah Palin was named as the VP candidate. She saw the footage of me suggesting candidate McCain choose Palin as his running mate, and the unconventional choice had the media scrambling to find out where this decision came from.
Holly worked with a local political organization, and her communications savvy catapulted the story into national news. There were nightly news segments, blog chatter, and video clips all featuring yours truly (“how did this kid know?”)
I didn’t, I just put my ear to the ground and made a suggestion that happened to be caught on film. Holly picked up the ball and ran with it, and as a 17 year old graduating high school it was an extremely cool experience.
Over the years Holly and I occasionally kept in touch, she was consistently supportive and was excited to see what I was doing in life through my college years and after. When my dad and I were featured in the produce industry trades as a father-son team (what seems now like a lifetime ago) she amplified it with pride.
She didn’t have to do that. She wanted to.
She approached life’s difficult situations with absolute gusto. When she found that local political representation was insufficient, she ran for office. When she was diagnosed with cancer, she started a charity, The Face of Cancer, to help female cancer patients with the psychological and emotional consequences of cancer treatment. Her final act from hospice care was to coordinate a successful GoFundMe so her children didn’t have to cover her funeral expenses. Those four children, who are no doubt grieving the loss of their mother, will go on to do wonderful things – she is with and within each of them.
In her last message to me, she said, “I appreciate you.” When I found out she was entering hospice care, I sent her a message that I appreciated her too. I don’t think she was ever able to read it – she was a popular gal in the community and probably deluged by well wishes. But I do appreciate her, for what she did, and for who she was.
I don’t know what approaching the end of life looks like, I know it’s something that some of us will experience gradually and others suddenly. I’d like to think my dad was happy, I remember one of the last messages from him expressing joy at the neighborhood celebrating 4th of July together, a wonderment, a peace. I hope that Holly found her peace. She was pragmatic, and upon her initial diagnosis faced down death and won. There’s a community that misses her deeply.
Generations of humanity light candles for those who they lost. I tend to my plants. I like the idea that something can grow, and bloom, transposing the energy these people bestowed upon the world into something vital. Three of the kitschier pots I purchased are emblazoned with one word each: COMFORT – PEACE – SERENITY.
It’s something we go through life striving to achieve, and it’s something we only truly attain once we’re gone. After a decade of battling cancer, I hope Holly achieved her comfort, her peace, and her serenity.
