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Gardiens du Mémorial(1)
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Christina Oliva
Elizabeth Anne Oliva
1 mai 1993 - 26 septembre 2020
1 mai 1993 - 26 septembre 2020
Événements
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Hommages
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Fionn Downhill
Dearest Liz, it has taken me some time to write this because there are still times I cant believe its true. You came into my life and the whirlwind of knowing you started. The first time we met you were so sad, then 5 minutes later we were laughing out loud and we shared so much laughter from there on. My favorite memory of you is your Lockdown birthday in a deserted parking. You were my friend and I miss you. Rest in peace sweet Liz and rest gently in the palm of his hand.
Madeleine Chone
My beautiful Liz Hole - Picking one moment or story you feels impossible because choosing just one feels like de-valuing the others. I can't count the tear-streaming-down-my-face-gasping-for-breath laughs you gave me. After some inner debates, I've landed on at least one superpower: you truly could not keep your true self from coming out. The idea of putting up a wall or tip-toeing around a truth never seemed to cross your mind. You gave us more of yourself than anyone I have ever met. And you never demanded the same in return. Your gift was just inviting us to do the same - asking through your own easy authenticity why we wouldn't cry or laugh as transparently as you were - making unavoidably obvious how stupid the facades we all put up are. One of the only quotes I've ever reliably remembered is from Maya Angelou: "At the end of the day people won't remember what you said or did, they will remember how you made them feel." Talking to others blessed by you and trying to make sense of all this, there was an obvious and resounding commonality. Yes, you were brilliant, hilarious, disarming, and electrically witty. You burned so brightly, and that was obvious. But more rare, was that your energy didn't take up space but actively made space for others. Your openness and relentless authenticity made me feel, probably for the first time ever, that my real self, not the face constructed for the rest of the world, could be enough. I'll continue to remember so many things you said and did (for their ridiculousness, how could I not??), but most vivid will be how rare it is for someone to consistently, no matter what you said or did, foster and nourish a feeling of self-worth in others. Making you laugh was the best feeling and you let us do it a lot. Even in astounding sadness, I have a smile thinking about the way your eyes always lit up deviously the seconds before you burst out laughing - like someone just pulled a prank (you probably did). I'm so lucky I got to experience your joy and learn from you. Thank you, Liz Hole. - Forever your Mad Hole To Liz's beautiful family, nothing was more obvious than the love and joy she found in being your family. She beamed with pride - and took every opportunity to tell you about - her luck in having equally hilarious, empathetic, and outrageous counterparts at home. She quite literally gushed with admiration for the grace and power of her female relatives - you were an obvious touchstone of strength from her. Some of you I've never met, but I still know your accomplishments. She would rush with equal vigor to play me Vince's voicemail impressions, show me a ridiculous snapchat from Joe, an embarrassing childhood photo from Christina or Victoria, or a random text from a cousin. If I didn't get the joke, I still laughed because she was laughing that hard. My heart is with you always because, though you were so blessed to have her in your family, so was she.
Grace Migliorelli
Liz, One thing I can always count on is for you to make me laugh. Even as I sat down to write this I could not stop laughing at the absurd antics we got ourselves into over the 20 years we knew each other. I'm thankful that during the past few years you lived in Arizona we kept in regular touch. We were just laughing about how in 5th grade we brought the house down with a self proclaimed iconic performance of Be a Lion from The Wiz with me singing and you on the double bass. On TWO separate occasions in the last year I texted you to guess who I bumped into on the streets of NYC and you got it right on the first try both times. I've read those texts over and over and they never fail to make me laugh. I've always admired your discipline and dedication. I remember you expressing frustration in me while we were studying together one day in high school, saying that if I wasn't putting forward my best effort I wouldn't reach my full potential. You recognized so early on that anything was possible if you put enough time and effort into it, and I'll always appreciate your attempt to share that we with me and giving me the friendly push I needed to aim for more. My list of memories with Liz could go on forever but some prime examples of what absolute fools we were together include: taking a joyride without licenses and putting on sunglasses so "no one would know how old we were", coming in dead last for every single crew race and blaming it on "the curse of Bobby Stowe" and not that we were messing around and singing when we were supposed to be training, starting a "pray for Kipper" campaign on Facebook when nothing was wrong with him, a lifetime of making up dances, you "feeling sick" and going home from every sleepover we had for basically 10 years, walking over and letting ourselves into each others houses without even checking if the other person was home, endless Broadway shows and just hours and hours of laughing until we cried. I've said it before- I'll never forget the sound of your laugh. Thank you for everything.
Mercedes Perez Whitman
Liiiiiiz! It's taken me some time to process the weight of your passing, as the world I grew close to you in differs so much from where I'm at today. Memories of that world have flooded my mind since you've been gone and I'm reminded that you played such a huge role in helping me get to where I am now. I believe we first met at a birthday party in fifth grade and we were instant enemies. I don't remember what changed exactly but it didn't take long for us to become friends. We were always so different yet bonded by things like laughter, mutual weirdness and dedication to school. You were always such an impressive student; I remember briefing you on the five books you didn't read over the summer for AP English and you somehow getting a higher score than me on the exam. We spent so much time studying (and laughing) together at your house - many thanks to your family for letting me hang around and feeding me on many occasions. It was you who urged me to go to college in Colorado, knowing it'd do me well to leave the east coast, and you encouraged my passion for music (even if you made fun of my taste sometimes). I miss singing "Let Down" as loud as we could. Your honesty and vulnerability were so powerful - during a winter break in college I came over and you told me how you'd been going through some things, which gave me the courage to tell you how I'd been struggling myself. You helped me realize I wasn't weak and that it's more than okay to get help. Thank you for providing a space I felt I could be myself in and for the countless laughs. I love you so much Liza, Mech
Jaclyn Mullen Lieberman
These words are so hard to type, this news has rocked myself and my friend Alice today. We communicated with Liz frequently in a text group between the 3 of us sharing hope, jokes, prayers, gratitude. We were worried since she hadn't replied and wanted to reach out to Liz's family when our online search in doing so lead us to this page. To Liz's family, she loved you so so much. She told us often about visits with her Aunt in San Diego, the symbolism and special meaning of sunflowers, her love for being an Aunt, and that she recently thought actively about moving back to the East coast. Throughout the pandemic and this summer, Liz was a positive force in my life and I just sit here with such a heavy heart that she left us so young. I am grateful to have known her and send the deepest condolences to everyone sharing here.
Amy McBrayer
Dearest Liz, Lizhole, Lizard, Bess (yes, I know you'd be mad about this one.) One of my oldest and first friends. It's hard to know where to begin. When my parents moved out of Ridgewood this summer, we found the beanie babies you and I had colored all over with markers in preschool. It's one of my earliest memories of you and our friendship. During one of our last conversations, we reminisced on all the memories we had in that house, and the countless times we climbed over that chain-link fence into our adjacent backyards. I am so lucky to have had a friend like you to share a lifetime of memories with. Running around like maniacs after eating too much Wasabi, choreographing our pitiful rendition of "Hips Don't Lie" for 6th grade field day, chasing Jack around the neighborhood when he escaped that one afternoon. It came as no surprise to me when Dr. Schaefer cast us as sisters in "Crimes of The Heart" in high school. You were such a prevalent part of the most formative years of my life and I will always feel inextricably linked to you through nearly two decades of adventures. The things I'll remember most: your goofiness and your unmistakable laugh. You were fiery and passionate. Thoughtful and intelligent. You fought hard for what you believed in and used your powerful voice to better the world. It's hard to comprehend a world where you're not with us, but you will always be a part of me and a part of those who knew and loved you. To Lynne, Vince, Victoria, Christina and Joe: I can't even begin to imagine the pain you are going through. Although I know it'll never be enough, please know I'm sending you all an enormous amount of love and healing.
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