Column: Saying goodbye one last time

‘That was the first and last Christmas we were able to spend with him.’

“He was a special man, the dearest of all.” Courtesy of Evangelina Lopez.

He was a special man, the dearest of all. My brothers and I walk toward the familiar brown door with hurried steps knowing who would appear. “Trick or treat!” we say as we knock on the door. Instead of the usual Halloween candy, bags of coins greet us as Kenneth Holcomb opens the door.

My parents met him in the year of 2000, back when my dad, uncle and grandfather worked together at Champion. Ken used to work with them which led to my dad meeting and befriending him.

In 2008 my dad lost his job and wasn’t able to keep paying for our house, which caused us to lose it. Ken became an angel to us when he gladly opened his doors for us and allowed us to move in with him in early 2009.



Ken was never at home. Since he was a technical engineer, he was always traveling. Whenever he had to leave, my mom would drive him to the airport with my brothers and me tagging along. We would drop him off at his gate and, if we saw an airplane, we would say, “Bye Ken.”

Every time he returned back from his trip, it became a tradition to order Dominos. But there was a time he decided to invite us to TGI Fridays because he wanted to take us somewhere special. After we ordered and ate our food Ken had the brightest idea to order the entire dessert menu. It was the craziest decision but the sweetest as well.

It was a special Christmas, a white Christmas, in which everyone in our family got a present. Quick on our feet, we stood around the Christmas tree eagerly waiting to open our presents. Ken, my older brother and I had bought my parents presents while my parents bought the rest of us presents. We wanted to get Ken a present too but he said his present was having us.

That was the first and last Christmas we were able to spend with him. He had never celebrated anything because he lived alone, at least until we moved in. We celebrated birthdays, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years and many other things with him.



It was sudden when Ken came back early from one of his trips. Ken’s friend had picked him up from Houston and was bringing him home. I had no idea as to what was happening while we waited for him on the couch. When they finally arrived we stood up with quick feet to greet him and hug him but instead of walking in, Ken appeared in a wheelchair. With scrunched faces filled with confusion, my parents start to walk toward them. My parents’ eyes begin to tear up after they’re told Ken was sick.

It broke my heart when Ken told my mom ‘It’s OK, when one leaves another, is on its way’ while he was on his deathbed. What we didn’t know at the time was that my mom was pregnant with my little sister, Valentina.

Having to see both my parents crying was one of the hardest moments of my life. I was left in the dark as I saw Ken’s friend talk to my parents in whispers. I wanted to move closer, to hear what they were saying. That’s when I found out Ken died of cancer.

Ken was a veteran, an honorable marine who fought in the Vietnam War. When he was sick, he said he kept having nightmares from that time and it made me heartbroken seeing him suffer. Now, I can’t even imagine how it was for my parents. We lived with him for only a year and a half, but that was the best year and a half of my life because he gave me the happiest memories.