Once upon a time there was a girl named Amy Fuller who worked at Harbour Pointe Golf Club in Mukilteo.
Harbour Pointe (or HP as the regulars call it) is a beautiful and challenging public golf course in our very backyard. It also has the distinction of hosting vibrant Men’s and Women’s Clubs filled with long-time loyal passionate golfers. And Amy was a long-time, loyal and passionate employee.
My husband, a member of the Men’s Club since 2000, is certain that he knew Amy since she was 15 years old. When I joined the Women’s Club in 2006, she was there. More often than not, it seemed, the beverage cart would pull up and she would be driving it. Or you’d see her running around in the bar area, always working, as much a part of the HP community as golf clubs are to the game of golf. If you have ever golfed Harbour Pointe GC, it is very likely you encountered Amy at some point.
Over the years she became like a daughter or sister to the regulars, was a friend and confidante to many, and knew everyone’s name and preferred beverage.
And people knew her and loved her. I can’t do justice to how much a part of this community she was.
But yet in all those years I never talked to her beyond this:
Amy: Can I get you anything?
Me: No thanks, I’m good.
(Although there was one time where she offered to drive back to the clubhouse to get something for me that she didn’t have on the cart. I declined. That’s the kind of person she was.)
I couldn’t tell you why, maybe there was never the right time or place or circumstance to connect further. But for a while it hadn’t felt right to me that as much a part of this community that we both were, I had hardly talked to her over the years. I mentioned it to my husband several times, and mentioned it again last week when we were preparing to head back to the Pacific Northwest for a big Men’s Club tournament in which he would be playing.
The first thing I saw when I arrived at the course was a huge blow-up unicorn spouting water out of its horn near the 9th green. It was awesome! I was told Amy was responsible. On Saturday evening there was someone in a unicorn costume roaming around. It was Amy. And on Sunday, when everyone gathered on the 7th tee to watch the final teams play through, Amy was there to serve beer in a t-shirt proclaiming “I am a Freakin’ Ray Of Sunshine” complete with a rainbow and a unicorn. She had also outfitted other staff members with the same shirt. Only Amy could bring unicorns to life at a men’s golf tournament!
And here is how it happened — I wandered near the beer keg and Amy offered me a beer. Finally, it was the right time or place or circumstance! On that sunny happy Sunday, Amy and I had a fun, spontaneous and easy conversation. It felt like we could’ve talked forever. Among other things, we talked about how I brought breakfast to my husband at 6:15 a.m. that morning (she said she’d serve me beer all day for being a great wife) and how happy she was with the guy she was dating (I told her how happy I was for them, Ty is a great guy.)
And then someone arrived for a beer and I drifted away, on to catch up with more people who I hadn’t seen since we moved away.
And when the tournament ended and my husband and I had to race out of there to the airport, we couldn’t possibly say goodbye to everyone.
But when I saw Amy, I grabbed her and hugged her, and told her how much I enjoyed our chat, how sorry I was that we hadn’t talked before this, and that I looked forward to talking to her again.
That was Sunday June 30.
Wednesday, July 3 she was gone. She was 33 years old.
I am honored and privileged that I was able to spend some time with this special young woman before this loss of indescribable magnitude. I got to truly experience why she was so beloved to so many. My heart breaks for Amy’s family and friends, for Ty and the HP community of which she was such an integral part.
If you know my writing, you know that by the end of any given column, I have usually learned something from the experience I write about. As I struggle to make sense of this, I can’t even comprehend what the life lesson is here.
For now, I will be forever grateful for the precious moments I shared with Amy Fuller, a freakin’ ray of sunshine in this crazy and unpredictable world.
Sometimes, if you’re lucky, it is the right time or place or circumstance.
— By Pritam Potts
Coach Pritam Potts is a writer and strength coach. After 16+ years of training athletes and clients of all ages as co-owner of Edmonds-based Advanced Athlete LLC, she now lives in Dallas, Texas. She writes about health & fitness, grief & loss, love & life at www.advancedathlete.com.