To put to pen a collection of words that would properly honour Holly’s story, what a difficult task. Her life and impact were beyond what I could possibly write. Holly loved with all of her heart, guided by nature and beauty. The special moments she shared with those she cherished were kept between herself and them. All of the people in Holly’s life, their relationship was a sacred and treasured place for her. It’s that loyalty she carried for those she loved that made her so dear to us all. I know that we all have spent quiet moments reflecting on our time with her, a gift she gave to each of us.
But for now, I would like to share some of the memories I keep in my heart. Jordan and I were raised with not only a tremendous amount of love, but an unconditional guidance that celebrated independence and resilience. She showed us how to live with kindness, strength and courage. Holly was our soft place to land when we faced difficulties and our first phone call when it was time to celebrate. My brother and I had a tremendous gift in having her as our mother and when we had our own children she continued to guide and teach us to do the same for them.
Holly was passionate about so many things and truly lived life to it’s fullest. I have never met anyone so dedicated to living a healthy and active life. I will always remember and cherish the many races we shared together. From cycling through Spain to Scuba Diving in Costa Rica, riding a Camel in the Egyptian desert and running through the streets of Rome. Even her vacations were more exercise than most got in a year. Holly’s passion for travel was filled with amazing stories and adventures. I think we’ve all had moments of awe when she shared some of her stories with us, and knowing Holly there were likely many she never did tell.
Last summer, we were able to go on a weekend photography retreat. We fumbled around on fancy cameras taking a million pictures of the same rock, chasing bugs and spent hours trying to zoom in on one little flower. We got together over wine to review our work, thinking we must have so many professional shots to admire, only to find maybe a dozen that really worked and truthfully mostly were Hollys. I can still hear the laughter, that deep belly laughter we shared sitting around the island in her kitchen.
Recently I came across a picture book and small novel she wrote for me. When I was a growing up, for a long time it was just the two of us. We would travel to BC every summer, listening to the Cocktail Sound Track on repeat, eating Caesar salads and calling ourselves bush women after many nights in a tent. It was during that time that she started telling me stories of a young girl name Kelsey and her secret friend Girvin. She took those stories, wrote and illustrated them for me. I am so thankful that I can now share them with my boys.
The relationship between my brother and Holly was that of a kindred spirit. Not only with birthdays close together, they shared a bond that only a mother and her son can truly hold. Jordan, I know your trips to the golf course, weekends making sausage and the many impromptu lunches and dinners together were some of Holly’s happiest moments. She was so proud of you Jordan and the exceptional entrepreneur, son and father you are.
Jordan and I grew up knowing how important our family history was. It was not too long ago that she walked with her grandkids throughout her house, sharing the story behind all her antiques and family heirlooms. Our favourite pieces were the kettle and candlesticks first brought over from Europe. She shared that they were the only belongings of the Evenson brother that happened to pull the straw to immigrate to Canada many years ago. The other was a bronze lamp in the shape of a horse that her father, our Papa, won at a curling bonspiel. There are countless other mementos she had displayed proudly around her home that kept us all connected to our past that we would have never understood without her stories.
One time of year that was sacred in our household was Christmas. Holly loved the season, its traditional values and of course, all the glitter and sparkle. I can vividly remember all of us dancing and singing “let it snow!” at the first sign of winter every year. From the music, family dinners, decorations and more recently our yearly “tree hunting” trips to the wilderness, Holly raised us with traditions we will carry forever.
Holly dedicated her life to people. Not only within her career, but with every person she met. She had this uncanny ability to just listen, support and allow people to tell their stories. She cried with them, laughed with them and accompanied them through life’s journey. Every person in Holly’s life was special to her. She loved those shopping trips to Seattle, long walks, lengthy phone catch-ups, playing flute with her community band, golfing dates, a ride in a cool car, nights at the symphony and dinner at a favourite, local Indian restaurant.
Holly loved nature and animals, but her favourite were her kitties. There were not many times in her life without the companionship of a cat, from spook to star, lucy and boo. Even in the recent years, when she didn’t own a cat, they still managed to find her. She really enjoyed last summer’s daily visit from Bob, the mysterious neighborhood cat.
Holly had the most beautiful backyard, straight out of a storybook. She loved gardening. It was filled with all the veggies you could think of, sweet berries and aromatic flowers. Her green thumb shone bright and provided many delicious meals. Her fingers and toes were always kept beautiful, sparkly and colourful. The reason she kept her nails done so perfectly was in fact, as she said, because there was always dirt under her nails from working in the garden.
My last piece to share is about family. Holly was the most incredible grandmother, or “nans” as the boys called her. They gardened with her, went camping and enjoyed bike rides with her. She always smiled when making Adam his favourite waffle breakfast, laughed when asked to paint a cool car for Tyler and enjoyed whispering sweet secrets about where she hid the mints to George. The boys all enjoyed spinning the globe to find out what worldly cuisine we could look forward to the following weekend. Saturday dinners were filled with laughter and fun, and anticipation as we could smell her incredible cooking when walking up to the door.
Holly was proud of her roots, her childhood in Regina and the close bond she shared with her sister, brother and parents. She shared many stories with us about summer vacations in Las Vegas, fun with neighbourhood and school friends, frequent dinner parties and her mom’s incredible baking, under the helpful eye of the kitchen witch. It was her joyous family, loving parents and supportive siblings that started her on what would be an amazing life. I would like to end with a poem called “Life Well Lived”
A life well lived is a precious gift,
of hope and strength and grace,
from someone who has made our world
a brighter, better place.
It’s filled with moments,
sweet and sad with smiles and sometimes tears,
with friendships formed and good times shared,
and laughter through the years.
A life well lived is a legacy,
of joy and pride and pleasure,
a living, lasting memory
our grateful heart’s will treasure.
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