My Wonderful Wife Sep 8, 1949 - Aug 16, 2011
Debra A Hobohm Sep 1949- Aug 16, 2011
Debra A Hobohm my lover, companion,and wife died Tuesday Aug 16 in Harbor Springs Michigan. She fought for her life for almost six months after doctors discovered she had stage four lung cancer. Radiation and Chemo and the magnificent Cancer Center at the University of Michigan were not enough to heal her or give her more time. The disease was likely lurking for years but when it struck it struck swift and fast. From the moment it was discovered in the Charlevoix Michigan Hospital emergency room February 25th to last Tuesday afternoon when she died in my arms Deb lived not quite six months.
However; longevity is not the only measure. Deb lived life full and well and with accomplished ease through good times and bad. From her extraordinary cuisine, to her beautiful accelerating ski turn, to her perfect golf swing, and her skill as a pilot, she made everything seem easy. Intellect and an easy charm accompanied her where ever she went. She could wear a rag and make it fashion. Debra traveled the trails of life with grace and ease, passion and abundant style. Those who knew her well are devastated, those who knew her less already sense that a light has passed.
Good-bye Sweet Beauty, Good-bye.
An Aspen gathering including Art and Helen Philips, Ellen Weinstein, Billy Fontana, Richie Cummins, Ron and Dana Pingatore Deb's husband Jay and there many other skiing friends is planned at the top of Highlands Bowl as soon as Jay receives new knees. All who knew her or who just wish to celebrate the life of an amazing woman should mark their calendars for the spring of 2012 at the mountainís peak where Debraís ashes will be scattered East and West and North to South to find the planets winds.
Contact Jay through this site by email for the planned date as spring approaches.
In Memory: I see her in the sunlight shadows and in the corners of light, a glimpse, a memory a thought a smell, a bump in the night. These still all are Deb for me. I find myself waking at 11:00 and at three, in search of her. Where has she got to now? It is time for medicine. And then I remember, she no longer needs it. It will work no more if it ever did, she is gone, gone, gone, and then I cry some more. I cry for myself and for generations passed, for all those before and after me, who if they are lucky enough to have so loved a woman will feel the pain that I now feel. And, I donít envy them the pain, but I envy them the love...it hurts so much...what a pain to envy, but yet, I do because all coins have two sides. There is a Yin and Yang to everything and with great love must by need come great sorrow at passing... Somehow it becomes, it is, and it contains the definition. Looking for her...to find her outside, wandering, I must find her, I must find her...it is time for her medicine.
In the days, in the evenings in every hour she is present still and immediate to my thoughts. She is the meal half prepared, the salad ignored, the glass of milk empty. She is gone and it is so hard to face. I cannot. I smile and look for her smile. I frown and look for her frown. I think and search for her thoughts. I look and see her still in everything... Oh what sweet a beauty she was, what a package of perfections flawed, what a package that was for me perfection.
I sense that this will be always, but I hope the always comes eventually without so much pain. I have only so many tears. Some days I think I must have used them all, when then- surprise, surprise, ducts pour more and vision blurs, so muchÖ I cannot find my entrance key. Jay Heininger, nome de plume j matson heininger www.jmatsonheininger.com
Jay and Debra were married in the Pitkin County Courthouse on Valentines Day 2006, Debra was an instructor/professor at the community college level, a high school teacher, a sailmaker, a government employee- Saginaw Michigan Health Department, and while in Aspen she taught skiing part time for the Aspen ski corp. She was a former member of the PSIA demo team and a USSA coach.
We first met
It was the summer solstice
I carried two bags of sails
She, herself alone
Behind the Irish counter
A seamstress of wind
And wave, of water
Can you fix these?
You should read my
Book I said.
I talked too much
And gave her a card
I must go golfing she said
What can you expect?
Itís Harbor Springs
Of course she mustÖ Golf
It sits in my head as clear as yesterday
Golf of course it would be golf.
Too bad and she looked interesting.
Golf: That sport I had quit playing with disdain
Golf -The sport of lazy men and lazy dollars
Driving carts not tanks
Making my generation do their killing.
To keep those dominoes up right.
Their apple pies crisp
Their Cadillacs content in so many rich garages.
To my surprise she called a few days later
I read your novel. Will you sign it?
Come to the signing, I had said, the local bookstore, 6:30
There she was from the corner of my eye
I was reading passages of the novel to a group of woman.
I looked up and she looked down
Giving me a gaze of amusement.
Then she asked me for an autograph and invited me to dinner.
Strange, so strange, Goodhart, a deck, the lake beyond. Two men in their eighties.
Tan Harbor Springs and loaded I surmised.
Clearly Conservatives with large amber drinks I their hands, and I in my beard, a liberal, and non-drinker, out of place, the deck was made of teak.
Later we walked along the beach.
I remember Deb trying to get me to talk.
I, one foot before the other thinking.
Should I involve myself?
Will it be good for me; will it be good for her?
One foot before the other until my toes dug into the sand and I spoke back.
We were together from that moment forward until, untilÖuntil.
Deb and I from that moment on together until
It Be Just Alright is the title of that book.
And now she has left me lonely
And it will never Be Just Alright again.
Lately my thoughts grab me in the dark stealing my sleep. I wonder now if I will ever sleep again. .
How can Deb be gone possibly be that she.
The most valuable person in any room for me.
Pilot, skier, golfer, athlete
College instructor, business manager, consultant
Deb could wear a rag and make it chic
She could drape the over done and give it sense
Deb, my wonderful wife and gone now. I will miss her so.
But in my thoughts
She will exist Through my forevers
I can see her in my minds eye now
Beautiful and beaming, cooking, caring, dancing down a mountain. Crystal sparkles in the air, the Colorado sunshine
Dancing with beautiful acceleration, gorgeous GS turns, Or challenging the steepest slopes. Hitting a golf ball, her swing perfection.
Just slide in backwards I said
And when you get to the cliff
Jump and spin. You must carry fifteen feet, then it is easy
Only fifty degrees- too steep for moguls. Watch Iíll show you.
Deb watched and followed
Now how many ladies can do that.
While all the time Waiting to give you a piece of their mind
When we reached the bottom.
You ass, I remember her saying.
But could she ski. And this when she was 56 and 57.
She died too young- weeks short of sixty-two
Think of Deb and she will live on
In spirit in memory
In the pictures of our minds
I know I see her watching from over there. Look left, right, in the shadow, in the corner- there.
A chimera real or imagined. It maters not, living in the eyes of our minds.
Deb, Itís all so sad Ö. We miss you.
I miss you more than any here can
I will see with four eyes now
To protect my lonely two
When I perceive and study
I will think of you.
My eyes will watch
For you too, love
As I travel, live and ski
So, so, so
So terribly sad
That you've left me.
There is a sacredness in tears.
They are not the mark of weakness, but of power.
They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues.
They are the messengers of overwhelming grief, of deep contrition, and of unspeakable love.
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