Friends...
Never more than now have I realized the utter importance of friends. I am blessed to have many, so was Laurie blessed. One of the sweet things of our lives was that one of my best friends is Diane Heick, known her for over 27 years and one of Laurie's best friends was Deanna Heick, Diane's daughter. ( My son Chris and Diane's son Steve are also in the Best Friends Club. Pete and Fred want to be in this club too.)
Through the years the Heicks have showed my family so much love. The unforgettable trip ( 8 Heicks and 5 Bonciminos) to the Dells as a little pick-us-up; loan of the Vail condo; trail rides; wisdom; laughs; many sorrows; financial help when I needed it. A million things.
Ever since Dee showed me her tattoo a few weeks ago and then said, "Don't tell my parents." I have wanted to write a blog about La's and Dee's friendship. Now that Dee has come out to her folks about the tattoo, I can write this. Laurie and Dee were both born in 1984 a few months apart. They have always been buddies. These pictures clearly show this. As toddlers together in the nursery at Coffee Hour, every year bunking together at Lake Geneva Youth Camp, together through the ups and downs of boys, Student Impact at Willow, theirs was a unique, unconditional love for each other. And now, Dee, in her hilarious love for the unconventional, has chosen to honor Laurie in her own special way. Laurie will always be there with her, literally riding her neck. Pretty sweet, don't you think?
5 Comments:
It was wonderful seeing all those old pictures. My favorite, us in the old waters of LGYC. I miss her. We were two peas in a pod and now I'm lost without my better half.
"Where do I go from here LORD!"
Barb (and Dee, too- Hi!)
This just really sucks. I've really been wrestling with "why?" (I know, not a novel question). I just hate that everyone is hurting so much. I just doesn't seem possible that this girl I knew in high school, so bubbly, so alive at all those Blasts and Sunday nights at Willow, is gone. I'm sorry I have no profound words of wisdom or uplifting works of encouragement. This just isn't right, though. I'm sorry- sorry that you are hurting so much, sorry that this world seems to be falling apart at times, sorry that life is so fragile. Sorry to be such a downer, too. Know that I'm praying like mad still. I don't know if that helps at all, but it's the best I can do most days. Lots of love!
Lisa
PS- I'm not sure I could do a tatoo, but way cool, Dee- a great tribute to Laurie. Never forget that you are a beautiful, wonderful girl- scratch that- woman. Thanks for sharing, Barb and Dee.
Oh Barb, Wait til you see my tattoo to Laurie. I am looking for the right artist to do it. You will love it.....this will make number 11, and the 4th one to someone I love...gail
Oh... what an awesome tatoo! And sweet, sweet pictures.
What is interesting is that I had meant to reply to a comment from you - and tonight, right before I did I just got a newsletter that told of a new book and I wondered if you had read it since you are a crazy book reader! Then I read the publication date and it says 9/15/2005 so I thought you may not have.
It's called "Goodbye Jeanine: A Mother's Faith Journey After Her Daughter's Suicide" by Joyce Sackett. The internet site is: http://www.navpress.com/Store/Product.asp?sku=157683719X&aCode=NL80905
You can preview the first 18 pages of the book there as well.
My favorite quote from those pages is: “God didn’t call her, but he was waiting for her.” So true of Laurie...
Jackie,
Thanks for the info. It is so interesting that you would let me know about this today. Last night I did a search on all the various books out there on suicide and there are a lot. But what I was struck with is that I did not find one written about a daughter, all the parent ones were about sons lost. Others were typically, daughters writing about their father's suicide. We have been asked to consider doing a book about our journey using the blogs as the base. Probably will happen but not for a while. Love and miss you,
Barb
PS Give Mark a hug for me.
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