Luke Layman's Stories

Welcome to a special space dedicated to celebrating the remarkable life and moments of Luke Layman. This is a place where friends, family, and loved ones can come together to share stories, reminisce about treasured memories, and keep Luke’s spirit alive through words.

We invite you to dive into the stories shared here, each one a reflection of the warmth, joy, and love Luke brought into our lives. Your stories, cherished memories, and reflections are welcome here, contributing to a beautiful tapestry of remembrance.

Chapter 4: Fifth and Sixth Grade

Dear Luke,

I thought I had enough friends at the time.

Then you showed me I didn’t.

You had only been in Michigan for about a week when somehow we became best friends. Our friendship started fast, and from that point on, we never really stopped bonding.

One of the first times I went over to your house, we played badminton.

You beat me every single time.

I never played badminton again after that. At the time, it was probably because I was competitive and didn’t like losing to you over and over again. But now, badminton means something completely different to me.

It’s special because it reminds me of you.

I don’t think I’ll ever play it again. I want that memory to stay exactly the way it is: two fifth-grade kids playing badminton at your house, with you beating me every single time.

But badminton wasn’t the only new thing you got me to try.

You somehow convinced me to play soccer, too. We messed around, had fun, and somehow ended up winning the championship. I never played soccer again after that season, either. Looking back, I think that makes it even more special. Soccer became another little piece of my childhood that belongs to my memories with you.

Baseball was different.

We both played baseball, although we were never on the same team. I wish we could have been, because knowing how competitive we both were, I’m sure we would have found a way to compete with each other even while wearing the same uniform.

But one of my favorite things you did with baseball had nothing to do with me.

You taught my little brother how to bat like you.

You both throw right-handed, but you bat left-handed. He learned that from you, and somehow that little detail has stayed with him.

Now he’s gotten into golf.

And guess what?

He golfs left-handed.

Every time I think about that, I smile because it feels like this tiny piece of you is still here. You probably had no idea when you were teaching my little brother how to swing a bat that years later I’d look at him and see a little bit of my best friend.

Part of Luke still lives through him.

There was another moment from those early years that I don’t think you ever realized meant so much to me.

We went to the pool together, and I wasn’t comfortable taking my shirt off. I was self-conscious and wanted to keep it on.

But you talked me into being comfortable enough to take it off and just enjoy myself.

You didn’t make it into some huge deal. You were just my friend, and somehow being around you made me feel comfortable enough to stop worrying about what everyone else might think.

That’s the kind of friend you were.

Then came sixth grade.

We ended up in the same class again, this time with Mrs. Graves. We spent basically the entire year together.

We were good students—really good students—but we still knew how to have fun. There are so many memories from that classroom that I honestly can’t choose just one to represent that year.

We even somehow managed to get attacked by the same person.

I guess if you’re going to be best friends, you might as well share the weird stories too.

But underneath all the joking around, we were also competing.

We were both trying to be Student of the Year.

Somehow, I won.

But Luke, as far as I’m concerned, that award is yours too.

That’s why I gave it to your mom.

An award might have had my name on it, but when I look back at that year, I don’t remember feeling better than you. I remember the two of us pushing each other. I remember wanting to succeed because I had somebody beside me who was just as smart, driven, and competitive.

You made me better.

And maybe that’s one of the best things you can say about a friendship.

You got me to try things I probably wouldn’t have tried without you.

Badminton.

Soccer.

Taking my shirt off at the pool and simply being comfortable being myself.

You influenced my little brother in a way that somehow still shows up years later.

And you pushed me in school because neither one of us wanted the other one to win.

Our friendship started incredibly fast.

A week after you moved to Michigan, you were already becoming one of my best friends.

Neither of us knew then where life would take us.

We were just kids.

But looking back now, I realize something.

You weren’t simply becoming part of my childhood.

You were becoming part of my family, part of my story, and part of the person I would eventually become.

And all these years later, you’re still part of it.