Memories of Nikki

It is with deep sadness that I sit down tonight to celebrate the vibrant life of my friend Nikki.  


We all - in the end - die in the middle of a story... of many stories. But Nikki's life was taken from us far too soon, and it is difficult to understand why such heartbreakingly tragic things happen to such worthy, wholesome families. 
 

However, huger than my grief over loosing such a special person is my admiration and appreciation for the inspiring woman she was; I am incredibly blessed to call Nikki my friend. This evening, I remember a few of the significant things Nikki taught me, and how wonderful her story made all of ours.

Nikki and I first met as little ones. I don't remember the exact circumstances, but seeing how our boys interact now, I am sure it involved hysterical giggling, floor-rolling, and toy-snatching. 

Over the years, I have many bright memories of Nikki – 

Diving for rings and pennies in the Homer Pool (always with a watchful eye on Bridget so we could sneak in a game of chicken on the huge, red, foam mats when she wasn't looking),

Riotous water balloon tosses, wild whip cream fights, and blindfolded games of stack-the-cotton balls at birthday parties. 

Rapid twirling in matching red party dresses until we fell down from dizziness - skirts fanned out around us.

Building fairy castles at Bishop’s Beach. 

Leaving summer fundraising car washes in water-soaked sweats and big smiles.

Growing up with Nikki was entertaining, exciting, and silly - but it was when we both became mothers that our relationship truly flourished. When she got pregnant with Hank, Nikki started gushing and never stopped. I remember how tenderly she held that little, red-haired bundle when he was first born; how expertly she discussed cloth diapers, homemade baby food, the right kind of vitamins; how she struggled and overcame the pains and challenges of nursing; how she fretted over Hank's colds when he was first exposed to germs at daycare. 

I remember her and Hank soaring down the snow-covered hills on Ohlsen Mountain; her pushing Hank on the swings at Karen Hornaday; us watching the boys drive their yellow toy excavators around Lauren's high tunnel - spit bubbles, "zroom zrooms," and occasional temper-tantrums abounding.

 

Nikki was also an amazing athlete. I have a groggy, adolescent memory of waking up to Nikki doing push-ups and crunches before school on the checkered carpet samples that covered the Fry's basement. I thought she was completely insane. I mean, this was before school! But as an adult, I loved training with Nikki. She pushed me constantly to go farther and faster while running and at Boot Camp. Boy, that girl could move! But my favorite activity was power walking with her up Baycrest or around my neighborhood. We'd chat comfortably, mostly about mundane things - our kids, families, upcoming birthday parties or baby showers. Miles would pass.

A generous and caring friend, Nikki gave me unending advice and support while planning our wedding and was there with casseroles, love, and tiny hats when both my sons were born. She taught me many things over the years - about making creative but simple dinners, planning elaborate Pinterest parties, writing timely thank you cards, building things (I'll never forget how comfortable Nikki was with a drill - she was such a bad ass!).

But most importantly, Nikki taught me about friendship and family. She loved her family. They were the most important things to her. It's incredibly simple, but true. 

Nikki's abiding love for Nate and Hank sustained her. She believed that love happened all the time, everywhere. In the most important way, Nikki was never ironic, never cynical, never pessimistic. I try to learn from that, still.

With her mom, dad and sister; with her husband and son; with all of us, Nikki had a lot of fun. She treasured happiness. I have an inordinate amount of "Nikki on Halloween" memories: carving pumpkins, Nikki dressed up as the Color Blue, passing out candy to trick-or-treaters before we had kids ourselves.

On Hank and Sawyer's first Halloween, Nikki brought over Save U More pizzas and big bags of chocolate. Great costumes, apple cider, and laughter filled the house. At that party, Lauren seemed unusually curious about whether or not the cider was spiked (it wasn't; the rum was on the side) and after she and Aaron left, Nikki and I speculated about her possible pregnancy.  I remember that Nikki was so excited about Hank and soon-to-be-born Wylie and Kellen being in the same class growing up. Looking back, that Halloween evening gossip-session is one of my most cherished memories with Nikki. 


Because of the generous and caring daughter, sister, wife, mother, and friend that she was, Nikki Marie Geragotelis will be sorely missed. But greater than the sorrow over her death is the joy that she spread in her life. She touched all of us with her energy, vitality, and sparkle. These will love on forever in our hearts, and we will continue her story. 

Please send your memories, stories, and photos to memoriesofnikki@gmail.com. They are being complied into a book for Hank and the family. There is also a memorial account set up at Wells Fargo that is accessible nationwide at any branch. Checks can be made out to Nikki Geragotelis Memorial. The family plans to create a memorial place for Nikki Geragotelis.