Farewell Holley B.

If I had to cast a person to play the roll of Sunshine my number one candidate would have been Holley Broughton. Sadly, I am too late to create a production with her as the star personifying brightness and light in the world because she lost her battle with ALS on Tuesday. But a battle she put up. Who she was had nothing to do with ALS and she never let us forget that.

I met Holley very soon after Russ and I moved to Durham. My first memory of her was at a party when she came up to me and said, “We are moving to your neighborhood.” Since I was not sure we had met previously I just went along with it. Turns out we had met a lobster night and I am so thankful that she made the connection with me because I quickly recognized her as one of the most fun and positive people I have ever met.

Holley was sparkle and substance. She loved fun, but was also tender. She was spiritual and a good time. Everything about Holley was creative. Holley absolutely had more friends than any human because she was genuinely interested in all people and she met each one with kindness and generosity.

Many years ago she had a girls party at her house. The theme was “high school prom.” That was funny since it was just girls. Some people came in their actual prom dresses. I thought, one – who still has their prom dress and two – who can still fit in it. Well, a couple of people, who took Holley’s theme very seriously. I came in my Lanz nightgown since I went to an all girls boarding school and Prom what not exactly a thing there. Holley embraced my choice as “fabulous.” Because Holley always was affirming everyone else.

Holley and I shared many parallels as we are exactly the same age. When she was in her early twenties she lived in Washington DC at the same time I did. We know our paths must have crossed many times because we haunted the same places in Georgetown at exactly the same time.

She and her husband Paul and four children, George, Penn, Julia and Weezie vacationed many many years at Pawleys Island as my family also lived there and spent many times there.

We have lived in the same neighborhood, belonged to the same clubs and been friends for thirty years. We have played games, cooked and eaten good food, planned and gone to many parties, fundraisers and meetings together. We have handed out ribbons at swim meets together, made flower arrangements, chaired garden club meetings, celebrated birthdays, done arts and crafts and up-cycled all kinds of stuff Holley dragged home.

Holley was a constant in my world. She was best friends with others, but she always made you feel like she adored you just as much. She always greeted me with a “Hi Honey.” I can still hear her saying it even though I have not heard her speak an actual word is almost a year.

When Holley first let us all know she was diagnosed with ALS, she could still speak and eat and walk, but her voice was affected. Holley was a professional talker so this was hard. She didn’t let any grass grow under her feet as she met this diagnosis with same “I can do anything,” attitude. Her positive spirit and generosity helped lead us through dealing with her ultimate demise.

Her will to live was greater than anything I have ever seen. And her gratitude for each day was hard to argue with. If there was a master class for how to exit the world, Holley could teach it.

So even though she prepared us well, the light in the world dimmed when her tiny ravaged body finally gave in and she crossed over into the heaven she believed in.

Holley leaves behind more loved ones and friends than can fill a stadium. My heart is broken for all who knew her, because if you met her you loved her.

Holley instructed us to clap when she left. Just like a star exiting the stage, I clap for her lifelong performance as sunshine embodied. Holley B was a true original and there will never be another. I am so thankful I was lucky enough to have my life touched by her.