Lauretta Breece Heide was the daughter of Helen Buck and Walter Breece, born on September 6, 1933, in Alton, Illinois.

After graduating from Lafayette Jefferson High School in 1951, she married her love, Lon Heide on June 14, 1952. They began their life together and throughout the 50s and 60s, they welcomed six beautiful children into their family: Chris Hammond (Larry), Bruce (Janet), Joni (Scott), Linda Shiner (Ron), Kelly Richardson (Russell), and Joe (Julie). Her legacy includes fifteen grandchildren Carrie Bright, Megan Brandt, Matt Hammond, Melissa McCormick, Courtney Watson, Cole Heide (deceased), Jake Gray, Lindsey, Claire and Reed Shriner, Beau, Olivia, and Sam Richardson, Sydney Williams and Sara Heide, sixteen great-grandchildren, and a lifetime of memories. She was the sister to five siblings. Rolland Breece and Donnis Goodman are surviving. She now joins her other siblings Jim and Roy Breece and Donna Holmes.

Two months shy of their 71st wedding anniversary, she passed peacefully at home on April 8, 2023, with her love, Lon, by her side and her children surrounding her. She was 89 years old. Whether you knew her as mom, momma, Mimi, grandma, LB, or Scrooge, Lauretta Breece Heide is sure to bring a smile to your face. My image of this sweet soul smells of freshly bakedcarrot cake and snickerdoodle cookies. It sounds like a cute, cheery two-pitched chuckle. It looks like a beautiful woman who smiled directly into your soul.

While her story starts in 1933, for so many of us, it began in a classroom in Lafayette Jefferson High School. Some charming fella by the name of Lon Heide walked into a classroom and took note of a very cute girl in the back row. The next day, he introduced himself to her and this is where our story gets fishy. She then begged him to go out with her. He relented, and the story grows wilder: she then duped him into holding her hand at the movies. By this point in the story, she’d surely have disputed his claims by waving her hand at papa, sweetly shaking her smiling face and simply stating, “They’ve heard enough, Heid.” Naturally, this would have been followed up with Pop saying, “She’s just crazy about me.” Those who knew her knew the truth to that and knew how crazy he was about her, too. They were the image of love and devotion. The embodiment of unity and trust. They played the infinite game and they won. A memory that stands out for me is one of a family gathered in their living room for a birthday celebration. This moment made me consider what forever really is and what it means to devote yourself to a marriage. My aunt handed me a card that Mimi had written for Papa and said, “Check this one out.” In Mimi’s beautiful hand, it read, “I will love you forever.” They had already been married for nearly a lifetime, yet forever is what they have left. That memory brings me peace, because in whatever collection of souls there is, I know those two will, indeed, love each other forever. Despite loving six kids, their partners, fifteen grandkids, sixteen great-grandkids, and so many others in her life, we each have our own connection and permanent impression of her spirit and personality. For all of her children, she was one who left no bad memories. None. “She was the best mom we could have asked for.” She was a steady component of a second set of parents for many. A wise and impartial therapist. A listener. A pillar of composure and compassion. She was smart, observant, and intuitive. She was present. She was motivated and progressive in her view of the world. She experienced so much change in her 89 years and took it all with an open and accepting mind. She was a capable and patient teacher. Perhaps she taught you the wonder and ways of the knit and purl, or was it the eye-opening experience of QVC shopping she showed you? Maybe you prepare noodles and dumplings in a way that only those taught by her would know. Perhaps your garden looks the way it does because of her meticulous plant arrangement and care.

Could it be that your finances are handled in a similar wizardly fashion? For so many of us, we are lucky to have been raised in and have become a product of her philosophy of parenting. You taught us patience, acceptance, and love. You taught us to laugh. You stressed the importance of buying full sugar syrup and protecting the loaves of bread from certain smushing. You taught us to be the best parent when many of us did not know where to start or we doubted ourselves. On behalf of my own incredible mom, who I have been so infinitely lucky to have, “You taught me how to be a mom.” Though my last interaction with Mimi was beautiful and will be held in my heart forever, I know there are some who may feel they had one more thing to say. Part of what made her so wonderful and unique was that that final line is incompatible with her nature. The conversations we all had with her, whether they’ve been happening for 85, 72, 35, or 5 years, we can trust were the most genuine, honest, and present. She told you her thoughts, not in an unkind manner, but with honest and careful consideration. She spoke the truth, whether you knew it or not. She had an ability to really listen that inspired some to “always look forward to what she had to say.”She may be gone, but she will live on in each of us. She remains forever in the Thanksgiving stuffing and fudge we will prepare because she showed us the way. Her voice will tell us “No” when we ask ourselves whether we should put sausage in the quiche. She will assist in the placement of the hosta. Her wisdom and counsel will be with us when we wonder what to do next. Her levelheadedness will guide us through stressful moments. She will be here to guide a smile when we are sad or lost. So, let’s take a page from her book and tell her plainly: I’m just crazy about you, I wish you weren’t gone and I will miss you.