Heather was my cousin, but more than that—she was a friend through the chapters of our childhood. We were only three months and one day apart, but I always felt like Heather was somehow older, bolder, and a little more mischievous than me.
When our families would visit one another, the house was always filled with the sounds of laughter—especially from our parents playing endless games of euchre late into the night. We were fortunate to be surrounded by parents who demonstrated the value of laughter, fun and family.
Heather had this incredible way of enjoying everyone around her. She had a sparkle in her eye, a bright spirit that found the fun in life and shared it freely.
I remember being around ten, and Heather already had a curious eye for boys. She would coax me into sneaking off to the local park or plaza to meet them, and I followed her lead with both trepidation and excitement—because that was the kind of pull she had.
She was full of energy and enthusiasm. I remember one particular visit, being amazed that she got alpine skis and boots for Christmas. I was in awe of her determination and adventurous spirit. She was beautiful inside and out. She always seemed fearless to me and could lighten up a conversation and have me laughing. I believe that those are the very qualities that strengthened her as she faced chronic illnesses from her mid 20’s. Heather gave us so many moments of laughter, lightness, and love.
Though her time with us was far too short, I feel lucky to have grown up beside her as her cousin, , to have shared so many small, unforgettable moments.
She will always live in my heart—in the memories I hold, and in the laughter I still hear when I think of her.
