Today Adam wrote his first blog post in nearly eight months. And it was one that caught me by surprise and has sent me on an emotional roller-coaster ride all day. The title, "Holly" was nondescript, and before I was able to finish reading, and well before I was able to absorb, Adam called to talk. Holly had been a climbing friend from the east coast. And Holly had passed nearly a year ago, just after she and Adam had last checked in with each other.
I finished reading the post and started to digest. I wanted the unpleasant feeling in my gut to only be the empathy that I felt for Adam. The news of the loss has hit him hard, and understandably so. There are people who touch our lives and it matters not how recently or for how long. He described her to me later in the day and it was undeniable that she had made an impression and they had formed a connection.
Unfortunately, the unpleasant feeling wasn't just empathy. It was an ugly bit of jealousy surfacing. Jealousy of the admiration he had for her; jealousy of the words he wrote about her. An uneasiness surrounding how he's described the last year of his life, and anger stemming from feeling like I'm putting in a lot of effort for nothing. They're feelings that I'm not proud were part of my first reaction to the situation and feelings I wish I could reverse. I would liked to have been nothing but supportive and empathetic, but I just wasn't.
Tonight I did some googling on Holly and instantly liked her. Adam said she was pain in the ass and far too upbeat and chipper for him. And that she was the only other person who encouraged him to bring Gaia along and could laugh at the non-stop-whining the in the car. Holly had given up her high-paying job in NYC banking and began living out of her car to embrace her passion for rock and ice climbing. She exemplified what Adam is striving for. And in his eyes the loss of someone so pure in the sport, so full of promise and "zest" as many internet mourners have described represents a loss of all hope that things will turn out right in this world.
From Holly's FB page on April 4, 2012:
Holly has left us and the world as we know it, in the beautiful park she loved – Yosemite.
She lived more in her 32 years than most could dream to do in multiple lifetimes.
Please celebrate her life by remembering her and choosing in your own lives to love and live your passion.
December 26, 1979 – March 27, 2012
She shares a passing day with Tom, albeit two years later, which is an odd coincidence, if it is one at all. There is little information on what (I have gathered) was a climbing accident on March 27, but it appears that she was hospitalized and possibly on some kind of life support until April 3. I can't imagine how difficult that was for those close to her. Indeed, collecting everything I read tonight about Holly, then one could easily argue that life is wholly unfair and that she never met her full potential. However, she touched many -- including Adam -- in such a positive way that makes the loss much harder to swallow. I find myself in tears tonight for a woman that I never knew, but who clearly made the world a brighter place.
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