There is a photo of Laurel and Kurt on the beach which requires some explanation. My memory is faulty but Laurel was putting together a photo montage for a relative back home (something about a project needing to be completed). The reason I like the photo so much is that it reminds me that Laurel was most happy when she was helping others. A trait she surely picked up from her parents.

She was a city girl but still enjoyed nature - I think she found our swimming hole a peaceful place with water, trees and birds singing.

Not sure if Margaret provided any commentary but we got a taste of the Pfaffinger Christmas when Laurel was with us. Meticulous cooking on a grand scale, she was always happy to be making something for someone else - somehow watching a video on her computer at the same time.

Laurel and I first became friends through her care for our fellow medical classmate Sophia. For those who haven't had the pleasure of meeting her, Sophia is a tall, talented, atypical 23 year old German who hails from a village someways outside of Cologne, in Germany. Between her different cultural back- ground there and her Steiner-Waldorf education, she -oftentimes unknowingly- wins the hearts of her friends with equal moments of unexpected forth- rightness, heartwarming compassion and the odd (but always entertaining) cross-cultural mishap.

An avid horse-rider, as well as violin player, Sophia found herself spending a week or so in hospital after her horse bolted and left her sporting a remarkably thorough ankle fracture. While not wishing to alarm the class, Sophia did begrudgingly permit a few of her closer friends come and make a fuss of her dur- ing her stay in hospital, across the road from our lecture theaters. Her friends - all good and kind- hearted people of course - would stay and keep her company and generally do their bit to make her un- fortunate and isolating confinement some measure more tolerable.

I had been across to see Sophia a few times, hoping
to provide a little boredom relief and perhaps a few
things to read; it might have been the second or
third time, when I noticed that the classes' most recognizable American was there, again; I'm not even sure she had left to go to our lectures. ‘That Minnesotan girl’ and I had had only passing acquaintance at this point; she was fairly well recognized in the class for squeezing as much knowledge and under- standing out of each of the lecturers she could after class, and we would often find each other down the front after a lecture, listening to the lecturer receiving further questions and explaining things to the same three or four odd persistent students each time. Even at that point I'd concluded she must have been rather precocious as a child. 

 Back in the hospital, standing at the side of Sophia's dreary-looking bed, I was struck by how warm and compassionate this mysterious northerner was with Sophia; it wasn't so much an overabundance of se- riousness -god forbid- as, well, an arresting and almost palpable sense of her I had, that she had taken Sophia's injury and plight on board in a way that none of her other friends had. Maybe even in a way that no-one else could.

Over the subsequent years I would get almost the same tantalizing sensation seeing her working with patients in the professional setting; Laurel's savant-like ability to recognize and respond to discomfort, to pain and isolation, to people -people- who were most vulnerable is still my overriding memory of her.

It was as though she could see people's needs as easily as though she was looking through their own eyes with them.

I noticed her glances of reassurance and found myself swiftly overcome by her musi- cal laugh. I could see her retreat slightly when a group of visitors arrived, watch them make a fuss of Sophia and later stumble off jovially, all the while Laurel acutely aware and responsive to the fact that this was a person in pain. She didn't just accept that and move on; she involved herself, intimately: she tracked down what painkillers Sophia was prescribed, what doses, whether they were working, what Sophia's perceptions of them were and what reservations she might have about taking them, whether there were any alternatives; whether Sophia's preference for alternative-medicine might afford her other

kinds of pain management. How was she coping with missing the coursework? Was there anyone at the medical who needed to be contacted? Would she

like photocopies of Laurel's own notes? Would she like Laurel to go through the material with her? Were her fam- ily and friends nearby? How was she getting home?

Laurel had it all in hand, and more. I marveled at it then, and I marveled at it now. I think I might just be harboring some amount of envy too; that -I said to myself after recollecting my traitorously de- scending mandible- was what real care and concern looked like, not what we tell ourselves in lecture theaters, nor what we glimpse on our tentative forays into the hospital wards. More than medicine provided; and more than Sophia's other friends and I were capable of, no matter how noble our inten- tions. And all done with such an unimposing selflessness and grace that I felt like anyone could easily missed it.

I realized that I could have easily missed it too, and I decided that I'd be damned if I didn't get to know this woman and maybe get a glimpse of what made her tick in such a uniquely compassionate way.

-Paul Shotbolt, December 2011

Shayne, Greg and Anna 

One time I was in Minn.  we took Laurel shopping. So much fun for me, with three boys, shopping was just not their thing.  Kate thought maybe we could help Laurel pick out some new outfits for school. So we took Laurel to where else, but JC Penney, and she tried on outfits and actually found several things to buy that she liked.  Watching her in this process was so much fun to me, and seeing Laurel's face on finding something she liked was so very special and a fond memory in my mind and heart. She was special and will be missed forever. 

Aunt Karen

I thought about memories and causes that were important to Laurel, and the Get Better Project seemed to fulfill several of these.

The first is that it is to help prevent suicide. Having suicide such a deep part of my life, anything that can be done to help a young person believe in a better future is very dear to my heart. There is no end to the sorrow of this disease, and truly even one family being spared this grief, is a significant change in the world.  

But, Doug and I also chose this donation as we so remember Laurel's work with the gay/straight alliance at her high school, and her willingness throughout her life to put herself out there, even when it would mean negative feedback, or people wondering about her, for what she believed was right. Laurel was a women of action, words not being enough.  

A memory I love: When Laurel shaved her head for cancer to raise money, she got lots of praise.. but the whole point was not praise, it was awareness and money.She sent out that great email that basically said, thanks but no thanks for your praise, send the money!!! which we did... 

I too am a believer in  ACTION and money put towards what you believe.So I believe in Laurel's memoryI believe in the Love of the Pfaffinger-Jones family, and their extended network or family and friends.I believe that things can get better....  sorrow when it is the loss of a child is life long, but it gets woven into the fabric of your life as a whole. Once the person moves to inside you, they are with you always.  Not where they should be, living their life as part of yours, but still with you. For this to happen, the good memories are essential. and with Laurel, there are many.  

I believe in Kate, David, Owen, and the memory of Laurel.Her sassy comebacks, her spirit, her smarts, her incredible generosity of spirit and actions... and have gratitude for having known her.

Laurel is and will be remembered, through the good deeds she did during her lifetime, for the new baby named in her honor, and for a lifetime of memories that will inspire those who  knew her to live their lives a little more intentionally, to pony up the money, and the actions to make the world just a little bit better. 

 Love to all,  With appreciation as well for your opening up your hearts and home to our family for so many years. It has made MN a much warmer,  more loving place for us over all of these years. 

The Smaller Petty Family  

Laurel Memories

Some of Laurel’s special little habits I remember with love:

Kissing the dashboard when driving through an orange traffic light.

Producing exceptionally delicious cookies, like ‘white-chocolate-macadamia’

Knowing the meaning of very strange words.

Answering her phone with “Kia ora, Laurel speaking”.

Eating sticks of celery with peanut butter and raisins. 

Calling me “gimpy” during those months I was on crutches.

Letting children listen to their own heart with her stethoscope. 

One of the stories I think I haven’t yet shared with you:

It was on the day of my birthday, in 2009 I think. Laurel and some other friends had organised a surprise party for me during the lunch break at uni. To give the others time to set things up at the beginning of our lunch break, Laurel took me for a walk in the nearby park and then told me that all MAPAS tutors had been called for a meeting during the second half of this lunch break (Laurel and I were both tutors in this programme for Maori and Pacific students in the year below us). 

I wasn’t too happy about this unexpected loss of free time, but of course I believed Laurel, and decided to have my lunch right away before we had to go to that meeting. Laurel made all kinds of attempts at stopping me from eating all my lunch, but I obviously didn’t have the slightest inkling regarding her intentions and ate until I was full. Then we went to the ‘tutor meeting’ and when I opened the door I got a glimpse of lots of people and balloons and immediately wanted to shut the door again – wrong room I thought. Laurel had to push me in, and even when everyone started singing it took me some seconds until I realised what was going on. 

Of course my belly was too full by then to try all of the amazing cakes and treats people had brought, but I did have to try one very special carrot cake – it was the first cake Vanisi had ever baked! She had made it together with Laurel, and needless to say it was delicious. Vanisi was so excited, and I think through this cake-baking project Laurel had made us both a gift. 

This little party was one of the most unexpected and beautiful surprises I’ve ever had! And it was so typical of Laurel and Anna to organise something like that. I can’t think of anyone who was better than Laurel at making other people happy! Besides my mum she was the best person to call if I needed some cheering up, or encouragement, or just to share my joy about something other people would consider insignificant. 

I am incredibly lucky to have had Laurel in my life, and I still love her with all my heart. 

Lots of love to you, too, and I hope your Christmas Day is filled with inner warmth and light and peace. 

Sophia

Living next to Laurel in NZ for what now seems like a short time, my
memories are not so much of eventful outings or momentous experiences
but rather of a natural general presence and ease of gathering.  We
spent time in each other's homes over dinners and wine and
curiosity-driven conversation.

I remember meeting Laurel at one of Shayne and Greg's oft-held dinners.
Two first impressions have stuck with me: Firstly, the fullness of her
hair, casually tucked up with chopsticks, and secondly, the shape of her
eyes and her eyebrows, which reminded me of an Alaskan flatmate I once
had.  When she moved in next door shortly thereafter, the extended
family in this wee valley grew so naturally to include her that I can't
say I have remarkable memories of it occurring.

If our friendship had a currency, it was the nuggets of knowledge we
traded: fascinating facts and trivia.  Laurel and I took it upon
ourselves to poke minutiae into the interstices of each other's brain.
When one of us started a sentence with "Did you know...", we were hoping
that we were giving the gift of discovery.  If that hope was dashed due
to pre-knowledge then there was always the hope that, as a result of the
prodding, related facts would reciprocally spill into the conversation
for our own discovery.  When we had exhausted our shared knowledge of a
particular topic, if we weren't sated we would call on google and
wikipedia for shared discovery.

I recall one evening where we consulted the digital oracle to learn more
about halal food preparation.  The ensuing conversation about various
approaches to slaughter was not a quiet one.  Laurel's sense of fairness
was definitely passionate.

I specifically recall one factoid that Laurel shared while we ate yum
cha one Sunday.  She told the story of a Chinese emperor who was
travelling incognito with his servants, disguised as one of their
peers.  The emperor poured his servant a cup of tea, an inversion of
tradition and a great honour for the servant.  To bow to the emperor
would be the normal course of action, but would advertise his rank and
spoil the disguise, so the servant bent his fingers on the table with
his middle knuckle protruding, representing his own head, so that his
hand resembled a bowing figure.  And so there is a Chinese custom for
saying thanks during tea service by lightly knocking the table with
three knuckles, the middle one extended.

At that same lunch, Laurel opened my eyes to the concept of gender as a
spectrum rather than the binary thinking we're commonly familiar with.
I could name many topics that I learned about via Laurel.  It's clear
that my memories of Laurel are largely around the content and path of
our conversations.  I value knowledge, curiosity and consideration,
qualities that Laurel embodied infectiously.

There was one thing that Laurel and I didn't share a love for: puns.
She couldn't bear them, yet I can't resist them.  When I would
grinningly drop one into a conversation she would recoil.  "Oh!  You and
my father with those awful puns!  Stop that."  It seemed incongruous to
me that she should be so anti-pun, but there's no explaining our sense
of humour.

I hope that these memories and the others that have been shared are
somehow helpful for you, while I have no doubt they shall be
bittersweet.  Personally, from the loss of Laurel I have come to learn
that grieving has something to do with the coming to terms with the
unjust loss of potential.  Your own processes and learnings are uniquely
yours and I wish you well on that continuing inner journey.

May there be peace.
                                                  BJ...

This is actually more of a tribute, but it's too long to post in the tribute section of this website, so please forgive me for posting it here.

Laurel was one of my nearest and dearest friends. Even though she lived across the country or half a world away for much of our friendship, I always knew that she was there for me.  When we talked, it was like there was no distance, and when we saw each other, which was often less than once a year, it was as though we had never been apart.

Throughout my life, I have trusted few people enough to fully let them in. Laurel was the first person in my life to whom I entirely bared my soul that completely and fully accepted me for who I was, stood by my side, and loved me unconditionally.  In the process, I discovered what a kindred soul she was, and how similar we were while still being two very different people.  We understood each other on such a deep level and had such similar thoughts and emotions that we used to joke that we were each other.

Because of the acceptance, unconditional love and understanding her friendship provided, she was a major factor in my recovery from my deepest depressions.  I knew I could call or e-mail her anytime with my troubles, however big or small, and that she would not only make time for me, but she would truly understand.  She never judged my problems or my emotional state; all she wanted to do was alleviate my pain in any way that she could.  She was always ready with kind words and a wise, thoughtful perspective; she was wise far beyond her years.

Because of my struggles with depression, I took the road not taken: I didn't finish college, I work at a local coffee shop, and I'm passionate about freestyle unicycling.  With Laurel's continued support, I worked at my life until I found what it takes for me to be happy, and I have finally learned how to unconditionally love myself and accept my life's path the way Laurel first unconditionally loved and accepted me.  I have so much gratitude to Laurel for seeing me through my worst times and for continuing to support me while I got to where I am today; I could never have done it without her.  She was an amazing person and an irreplaceable friend, and I will miss her dearly. 

Laurel, I've always been inspired by your wealth of knowledge, your time for everyone and especially your skills in baking! I love how we spend time at yours talking about american politics, your trips and adventures in France, all the while munching on your cookies! I remember your white chocolate and macadamia nut cookies, I think that was the pivotal point where I knew we were going to be good friends for sure!  Ha, you definitely make the world a smarter place, and tastier too! That's for sure. You really will be sorely missed. I love you so so much!

 I won't be able to be at either the viewing or the memorial service for Laurel so I wanted to take a moment to share a bit about the many ways that Laurel touched my life. 

I've known Laurel since kindergarten, and she's been part of the fabric of my life ever since. The memories I have of Laurel that are most powerful involve the many sleepovers and parties that she had at her house. Her house, especially the kitchen, was such a inviting, comforting place to be. She introduced all of our friends to the joy of making homemade pizza, and to the tiny bottles of champagne that came with individual straws, and countless other things like baked Alaska and Bennie and Joon. From egg bake in the mornings, to crazy games of charades and pictionary, to prank calling people selling girl scout cookies- so much of the joy that we all had in middle school and high school came from spending time together with Laurel and her family.

I especially remember a time when it was just me and Laurel, playing with her magic 8 ball. We both thought her house was haunted so had so much fun going from room to room asking if there was a ghost in the room. We'd run out shrieking with it said yes, and felt let down when it said no. Those are the sort of happy memories that I remember about Laurel and hope that everyone else will too.

i remember coming to the first class of the nursing degree at Massey University in Wellington, NZ, late, and sitting down in the seat next to Laurel; she quickly proved to be one of the most open, kind-hearted people there, and i came to think of her almost immediately as a person i could rely on, and who would be there.

This didn't really change throughout our friendship - in fact, she would go above and beyond in order to try and help out if she thought she could, even down to sending my ex an email asking him what his perspective on our on-again, off-again relationship, and then beating herself up about it when she thought maybe she shouldn't have. Most people wouldn't be so keen to try and help out in that regard - but she was always trying. i remember us talking on the phone throughout the Winter of 2007, giving each other pep-talks because i was feeling down, and she was stressing about how things were going back home or whether she would reach her happy ending. She was someone i really valued as a friend.

She was also someone i think everyone in the nursing class, in some way, valued; she was always keen to be friends with someone, no matter who it was, or whether she and they had anything in common - and she was always so willing to go out on a limb to argue in the best interests of others. Out of every one of the 90 or so students in that class, she was the one everyone knew.

Laurel and i sort of lost contact when she moved away - she was busy making her way through a medical degree and pursuing what she wanted to do in life, and she needed to devote her energy to succeeding in that regard. i really admired the fact she was so driven, and even though we weren't really in touch anymore i often thought about how she was doing - i was always confident she was excelling, given her passion and the way she set about reaching her planned destinations. i was dismayed and saddened to hear that she's no longer with us - even those of us who hadn't really seen or spoken to her for a while were benefitted by her presence in our lives, and she will be absolutely missed for the strength she conferred, the happiness she imparted, and the support she was always willing to give those who have at any time called her their friend.

Here we are in Kurt & Laurel's cabin, the table set for a wonderful Thanksgiving dessert. I can't exactly remember the types of pies we had, but I do remember us each making something special and everything tasted really yummy. 

We decided to take a picture, and wanted to capture the candle-lit atmosphere. To get this photo, Laurel, Lucas and I had to sit reeeaaalllly still for what felt like an hour. 

I remember Laurel looking so beautiful that night in the soft candlelight. Relaxed in her scrubs and bare feet after a long day of cooking and eating delicious food. And yes, bare feet were very appropriate in Kurt & Laurel's cabin, even during the cold month of November. With the wood stove blasting, it was usually about 95 degrees in there! 

Submitted by Traci & Lucas 

This is a picture of the delicious Thanksgiving spread that we planned out and made together. Kurt & Laurel brought certain dishes and we made certain dishes. I think we tried to make recipes that were family favorites, or had a special meaning to us somehow. Everything was absolutely amazing and yummy and wonderful .... except .... well, the shrimp salad that Kurt made. 

So, we are all sitting down to eat and I distinctly remember Laurel, Lucas and I politely avoiding the shrimp salad because, well, it smelled a bit "ripe". Kurt reassured us that the shrimp salad was just fine as he gave himself a huge portion of it. Needless to say, something was a bit off with the shrimp salad and Kurt ended up getting really sick. 

However, for years afterward, the mention of shrimp salad would make all four of us laugh (and Kurt cringe). We can almost still smell it. 

Submitted by Traci & Lucas 

And, yes, if you look close enough you can see it lurking there at the front of the table in the flowered pot. Yikes. 

Oh, life on Forest Street. While we were all there together, we made the best of times out of everyday life in the woods and those long NH winters. Cooking dinners for and with each other was definitely part of those years. 

This Thanksgiving, we had dinner at our place, and then dessert at Kurt & Laurel's place. Our little tiny table set for four. Place settings with all of our names. We made a delicious pumpkin soup for a first course. I think we all even got dressed up for dinner. 

I remember having a really good time planning the menu with Laurel b/c she was just as excited about cooking and baking as we were. It was a lot of fun. We were quite proud of our collective Thanksgiving meal that year :) 

Submitted by Traci & Lucas 

When I first saw Laurel while I was sitting in my usual spot at the back of the lecture theatre and as always she was front row centre, my initial impressions of her were “ Who’s that annoying girl who always asks all those questions? ” Then luckily for me, while studying late one night at school, in walked the trio, Laurel, Sophia and Vanisi, the triple threat studying group that you knew you could ask any question to, and one of them would know the answer. 90% of that time it was Laurel.

Laurel sharing her pomagrante seeds with me, while we were studying in the hallway during senior year. 

Acting with her in a play in middle school.  Working with her on props for Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat. Hanging out with her on the set of JB.

She invited a group of us over, either in our senior year of high school or our freshman year of college over Christmas break, and we played a crazy game of catchphrase in the living room.

In 7th or 8th grade, a group of us came over, and we played Twister.  She loaned me a black dress, and she let me have it.  I loved that dress, and thought of her when I wore that dress.  Us girls had a sleep over and we stayed up late talking and playing on the oijua board.

Thinking back to all the fun memories makes me laugh!  As most of the family knows in the summers when we were kids we would do a sort or rural/city kid exchange.  I would get to stay with Laurel for a week.  Owen can probably remember some of the times he had to put up with 'us girls':)  I remember going to the swimming club near Laurel's house.  I don't know what it was about that place - but it was my favorite place to be.  On our swimming breaks we would always bring a few extra quarters for some Charleston Chews.  Everytime I see that candy it makes me think of the swimming club.  I remember my 1st time watching West Side Story with Laurel and for days after singing/dancing to the music.  Oh - and the ENDLESS hours of Where in the World is Carmen SanDiego.  I don't know if we ever found out where she went!  I remember sitting ont the roof watching as the parade went by the house.  (Kate/Dave - I don't know if we ever told you that!)  Looking foward to going to Chucky Cheese - a highlight of every summer.  My first circus, ballet, museums, parks, and restaurants.  For some reason I always remember going to Emily's Lebanese.  For the longest time I had a T-shirt from that place.  Kate and Dave thought it was essential I have one:)  When Laurel came down to Blue Earth we would bake with Grandma, play endless games of rummy while sipping in Ginger Ale (always Schweppes), the Faribault County Fair, and exploring in the woods - making forts.

One memory I have is our volunteer work at a pet shop near Laurel's home.  Laurel had been going in to volunteer in helping doing odds and ends things around the store.  As most of my family also know - I was a bit of a handful as a child.  Our task of the day at the pet shop was cleaning out the fish tanks with a sort of shop-vac like tool made specifically for these sort of chores.  After the vacuum was turned on and we were left to do our work - I gave Laurel one of those 'hey watch this' and stuck the vacuum to my cheek.  At first she chuckled a bit, but then we couldn't get it off my face.  She had to get the clerk to shut it off.  For the rest of the week and even a few weeks after I had a perfect circular dark bruise on my cheek.  I was so embarassed I am pretty sure I made up a lie about how the story really occured.  I hope I didn't get her fired for that one.

Finally - I know this is getting kinda long - one of my all time favorite memories.  Laurel and Owen had a nanny that took us to Minnehaha Falls.  It was a hot summer day and the water was low only a foot or less deep.  There were kids playing in the water of the river.  We begged and pleaded for us to go in too.  Even though we were in T-shirts and didn't have towels.  Their nanny finally gave in and let us go.  We got in the water and would float down with the slow current get out, walk back, and do it all again.  We had so much fun and repeated this for hours.

Laurel and I had a special tradition: every time she returned to Minnesota, we had to make time for a trip to Leeann Chin's so we could order our Cream Cheese Puffs.  If we were really hungry, we'd grab a table and devour them right there with the appetizer sauce, usually making a mess of the table (if not ourselves) in the process; otherwise, we would bring it all home and relish them while catching up on each other's lives, starting up right where we'd left off as though no time had passed.

Putting this tradition into words doesn't begin to do justice to how much it meant to me.  I will greatly miss this special time with Laurel.

I just want to highly encourage anyone and everyone to contribute a story about Laurel.  Her family is hoping to collect stories to include into her memorial service which should take place Wednesday April 20th.  The stories need to be added by Monday to be part of the service, but any stories, at anytime will of course be cherished.  The pastor suggested to think of one of her, obviously many attributes and then tell a story that illustrates this.   And we will all love hearing them!  Thanks so much!

What a wonderful trip it was, Laurel had just finnished her 2nd year at Bowdin college and Kate and Mary and Jessica flew from Minnesota to Boston.  I flew from my home to Boston to meet up with them.  We then rented a mini van and drove to Maine to go get Laurel.  We had such a fun trip from seeing Laurels school to visiting cousin Linda and having a lobster feast to driving to Acadia national Park and hiking and laughing and stories and singing songs. The funniest was Laurel and Jessica doing monolouge as Minnesota church ladies in the best accents. The stay at the bed and breakfast. Changing our flat tire with the help of a very kind officer, who gave us the best shot of the moon!  Every time I think of that trip I smile and remember all of us happy and having such a great "girls trip".  Thank you Laurel for being the wonderful person you were, thank you for being such a special neice. May you rest in peace I will never forget you!!