Remembering Laurel

Remembering Laurel


My very very good friend left this world yesterday.

She passed away.

She died.

And I cannot seem to put together a string of words well enough to convey to you the level of her radness. Because that’s what I want to do. I want to shout out to everyone who didn’t know her some perfectly articulate sentence so that they will fully grasp who she was and then miss her and mourn her too. I want people to know what a loss we all should be feeling right now and be heartbroken with me.

She was the type to sparkle. She was brilliant, witty, and hilarious. She believed in fairies and magic and little people that sit in tents and chant at festivals in the desert. She believed in God and angels and hope. She believed in love and art and really really bad reality television.

She also believed in me.


My friend, Laurel, was diagnosed with breast cancer a few years back that then went into her bones, her liver, her lungs and finally, her brain. It was a long battle (she would hate me if she saw I called it that, she hated that term) but I feel privileged to have been a small part of. Take the time to read her blog. It’s smart, funny and real – like her.

Two or three times a week, depending on her treatment, we would scour the internet for memes to entertain her while she was hooked up to machines. We had the same odd sense of humor that neither her husband, nor mine, thought was funny. “Brett doesn’t like that all I talk about is stuff I see on the internet but all my friends are in there.” Yup.

We played a lot of Words With Friends (which she wasn’t very good at). We never got to finish our last game.


She was hopelessly cool without trying, part sophisticate, part dirty hippie. She had expensive tastes, decorated her Christmas tree with random animal bones and wild bird feathers, and felt life was (literally) too short to eat shitty food.

She loved my babies. Audrey made her plastic jewelry and thought she was the coolest because she had a bird named Pixel. (When Audrey found out that she had died she told me not to be sad and recommended I draw a picture of Laurel and her bird so that I would never forget her.)

Laurel wanted nothing more than to be a mother and after years of trying it was finally happening….

Their daughter is due on July 27th via surrogate.

Twenty-two days after Laurel’s spirit left the earth her baby girl will enter it.

Brett: Our hearts are breaking with yours but we will be here for you, however you need it. We will shower Fire Baby with love, and time, and a million memories of her mother. Thank you for making her so happy, you were the love of her life.