I don't know why...well actually I do.

Thing is, I was thinking a lot about a cousin of mine the other day and how I loved her to death.

Holly, as much as I'm ashamed to admit, is a romanticized memory in my heart and mind now. No everyday occurences come to mind, just special events and trips together. Like when we went to see E.T. together when I was just about five years old. Or how I rode her horse Prince out at the farm and held on for dear life. Or when we built sand castles together and watched wrestling together in Florida on vacation. I remember we dug a hole that must have gone to China! It definitely went over my head, and she had to help me out of it. She built me a little chair in the sand, a ledge to sit on while we dug and dug and dug some more. They took a picture that trip, a picture that everyone has probably seen in my family. It was when we all went to the aquarium thingie in Fort Walton, and she had been splashed by the dolphins flipping and splashing. She had her back turned to you, and she was looking over her shoulder smiling. Hair dripping wet, cute smile, and braces.

I remember when we went to Tennessee and I fell in the creek with her little brother and we ended up in indian moccasins from Cherokee.

I sort of lost touch with her somehow. My cousin turned from an everyday play pal to a person I rarely saw who it seemed grew a foot between visits. One of the last times I saw her was in the parking lot at sunflower. She had turned into a full-blooded adult, and was gorgeous. She wasn't stuck up either. She actually stopped, left her friends, came over, squatted down and kissed me on the cheek which made it burn like fire from blushing. I must have been maybe 11 at the time. She winked at me, made a pistol sign at me, and said 'take it easy babe'.

Then shortly after that, on the night of the 4th of July, the phone rang in the wee hours. It scared me to death, and shortly after the phone rang, I heard my dad come running out of his room sobbing and screaming, which until this very day has been the only time I've heard him cry in my entire life. It took 30 minutes to find out what happened. Holly was coming home from one of those typical parties in the eighties, where people snorted, X'ed, and drank themselves into a more pleasant state of mind. She and two other friends were coming home in a 2 seater sports car, with cuz sitting in the middle on the console b/c there wasn't anywhere else to sit. The t-tops were out. And they took a curve at over 100mph coming into town, flippin that car and snuffing her young, sweet life out of existence in the blink of an eye.

Holly was buried that same day, before midday. Her funeral was attended by hundreds of the finest kids, weirdos, friends and family that the dying 80's could provide. Martika's "Like Toy Soldiers" was the hit du jour. I had cousins my age there and two cousins who were still not even in kindergarten at the time.

The pre-schoolers are out of high school now, the my-age'ers are pushing 30 and Holly is eternally 19 somehow.

Holly is still missed, and as much as I try, I can't keep her memories from slowly fading as the days, months, and years pass. I loved her so and hope that the new generation of kids in this messed up family learn from her tragic death.

Holly Melissa Clark
1970-1989