This shaking keeps me steady. I should know.
What falls away is always. And is near.
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
l learn by going where I have to go.
-Theodore Roethke

Long-time Town House Books bookseller, Heidi Schmidt passed away May 13, 2026 from complications from lung cancer. She had made the decision to enter hospice five days earlier and died peacefully in her sleep with her husband, Mark Mitchell, and dear friend Ritta Basu at her side.

Town House Books owner David Hunt recalls that in 1995, “Heidi rode her motorcycle out to meet me and see the store.” They set up a lunch interview later at Bistro America in Batavia. “We spent three hours talking, laughing, and connecting like we had known each other for years.” Heidi was hired as the store’s bookseller and manager where she did the work she loved until her passing. “Heidi was the most thoughtfully read person I have known. By that I mean her tastes were sophisticated but never intimidating or meant to impress,” David recalls.

Heidi’s primary focus at the store was always making a strong connection with customers to understand what they were looking for in a book or gift. As store manager and book buyer she ensured a full spectrum of books were available for her customers. When the store closed for a while during Covid, Heidi wanted to continue her conversation with book lovers about books and reading. She began to write and publish an original newsletter focusing on a theme of interest or an especially intriguing book, whether newly published or not. She also began to share poetry on Mondays with the store’s social media followers.

David said, “I feel so grateful to have known Heidi and soon after Mark as two people who have helped our bookstore survive and flourish through the years. Heidi will live in my heart forever, and I will forever be grateful for her friendship.”

Over three decades at Townhouse, Heidi’s circle expanded to include meaningful relationships with publishing representatives, authors and most importantly her customers, so many of whom became friends. Christian Nokkentved relates, “For years, 25 or more, my Saturday mornings ended in conversation with Heidi at Townhouse. We often talked about books and what is in books, and what books do for readers. One long-running conversation was what makes great art great? Well, Heidi pointed out that too often “great” is defined by society’s cultural “gatekeepers.” Gatekeepers that exclude. She was such a marvelous curator of books, as so many of us know and benefited from.”

Brian Wraight, a Hachette Book Group phone sales rep who developed a close friendship with Heidi, despite never actually meeting in person, shared, “If you’re talking about books in the right way with the right person (which Heidi was), then talking about books very quickly can turn into talking about all of the Big Life Things — the things that matter, the things that are actually worth talking about.  Every conversation I had with Heidi was one worth having, and each one was most likely the highlight of my day that day.”

It was at Townhouse that Heidi met her late-in-life friend, Ritta Basu, with whom she shared countless conversations, book recommendations, poems, home-cooked treats, and many special moments.  Their favorite meals together were at a local biker bar, sharing hot, steaming bowls of wine-soaked mussels with a side of laughter, gentle thoughts, and generous affirmation.  “Ours was a mutually nurturing and loving friendship that continues to hold me spellbound when I think of what an amazing human she was and how lucky I was to have known her,” Ritta said of Heidi, who started their conversation in 2012 by sharing a quote from a favorite author of hers, Jeanette Winterson.  The quote, aptly, was, “Why is the measure of love loss?”

How do we endure this particular loss? Perhaps the answer is in a quote from a poem by Antonio Machado that Heidi carried in her wallet for years.

Wayfarer, there is no way,
you make the way by walking.
As you go, you make the wayand stopping to look behind,
you see the path that your feet
will never travel again.
Wayfarer, there is no way—
only foam trails in the sea.

Heidi was born November 26, 1963, at Edward Hospital in Naperville, the youngest of seven children born to Harold “Hal” and Marjorie Schmidt. 

Heidi continually found a way to live a life that suited her, that filled her spirit, and lit up the world. Her abiding spirit and boundless energy for life, literature, the natural world, and those she loved was exceptional. Three of those she loved so much have recently passed: Earl Laman, Sister Clemente, and Joan O’Leary.

Heidi graduated high school in Wheaton and earned a bachelor’s degree with high honors in English literature from Rosary College (now Dominican University) in 1992, where she studied under Sister Clemente, and met her lifelong friend, Patrick Russell. 

 “We were both transfer students pursuing our bachelor’s in English degrees,” Patrick recalls. “I approached her after a writing class and mentioned how much I liked her short story that she had just read aloud in class. It was well-written, poetic and moving. That simple meeting evolved into a lifelong friendship. If I ever get the chance to see my friend again, I suppose I would greet her the same way we met, having known the rich and inspired life she lived, ‘I really liked your story.’”

There are many reasons and ways to remember Heidi, though she may be most remembered as an exceptional bookseller, whose depth of knowledge and keen ability to know just the right book to recommend at any moment or occasion, was unparalleled.

In 1988, children’s book author Patty Toht hired Heidi to work at Never Never Land Books for Children in Wheaton. It was Heidi’s first job in a bookstore.  Patty remained a lifelong friend and shared: “We were two twenty-somethings, with no bookselling experience, trying to figure out how to make a store thrive.  I think my favorite memory is of the two of us in costume — Clifford the Big, Red Dog for Heidi and Spot for me — giggling, while melting away during a hot summer festival.  Heidi was a cheerleader for the store and for my journey as an author, and I am so blessed that she was my friend.”

Mary Yockey and Heidi

In 1992, Heidi joined Anderson’s Bookshop in Naperville. It was at Anderson’s that she made key lasting friendships. Jill Brooks recalls the first day she met Heidi at Anderson’s. “My friendship with Heidi came so easily. We first met when she walked into Anderson’s Bookshop for an interview many years ago, and we immediately clicked, in a way that I hadn’t experienced before or since in my adult life. We were different in as many ways as we were similar.  She became a dear friend of other dear friends, shared secrets, swapped stories of old, and always shared favorite books and poetry. She was an intelligent, funny, generous, loyal, passionate friend who was beautiful inside and out.  I will miss her forever.  Thank you, my Heidi.”

Mary Yockey recalls when she first met Heidi, it was for a job interview with Anderson’s. They took a walk and even stopped for a while to sit on a bench near Naperville’s Riverwalk. “In the warmth of the sun, our first conversation meandered among topics you would expect, such as our favorite books, as well as topics you might not expect such as our dreams and observations about life. In truth, it was not a job interview, but was the sparking of a lifelong friendship. Heidi and I shared so much, for instance we treasured how two bookish tomboys ended up, each of us, with the passionate loves of our lives. The easy brotherhood they enjoyed made the square complete,” Mary reflects. “During a recent evening together, we found that magic still exists in the cozy house of four, just in a slightly different way as Heidi remains present in each of our hearts and minds. Michael and I are so grateful for the vivid and real memories and habits of enjoying this beautiful world with her. We will forever cherish her and be inspired by her.”

In addition to those who loved her, Heidi is survived by her husband of 32 years. While the sadness of losing Heidi envelops us all, Mark wants those who loved her to know how beautifully she moved through her final year, living with a diagnosis of cancer. “Her dignity was always intact. She underwent every treatment and procedure with her usual determined yet buoyant demeanor. When it came time for the end, Heidi assured Mark that she wasn’t afraid. “Not at all,” she said. She expressed sincere gratitude for the very rich life she had known. More than once in her final week, she expressed a euphoria about the life to come. She was eager to set off on this next adventure, “which is just like her,” Mark said. “She kept reminding me of our resilience by quoting a line from one of my poems: ‘Life throws you, you fly.’

While Heidi’s body has released her amazing spirit, may she always live in the hearts and memories of all who knew and loved her.