“To sit in the shade on a fine day and look upon nature is the most perfect refreshment.”
-Jane Austen
My brother's wife, Beverly, passed away on Tuesday, January 14, 2026. They would have celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary next month.
Beverly was a remarkable person. She had a way of being rooted and expansive at the same time. Her heart was firmly planted in their blueberry farm in Corbett, yet her curiosity and love for the world carried her far beyond it. Nature was not something she simply admired; it was something she engaged with fully, wherever she happened to be.
The blueberry farm was central to her and my brother's life. From her dining table, she delighted in watching the birds gather at the feeders, the squirrels picking up the scraps below, and the blueberry fields stretching toward the beautiful view of the city of Portland. 
This was a place created with intention, love, and care. I have always been impressed by what she and my brother built together, so I wrote a song about their love, the creation, and the nurturing that went into every part of the farm. Here is a link to the song, Blueberry Fields Forever.
Beverly’s garden reflected her deep respect for the natural world. It was expansive and thoughtfully cultivated, filled with flowers, shrubs, trees, and plants of every kind. Walking the property with her was unforgettable. She knew every plant by name, including its scientific name, and shared that knowledge with quiet enthusiasm. She did not just grow things, she understood them.
She loved to travel, whether it was abroad, across the United States, or exploring closer to home throughout Oregon. If there was a nature preserve along the way, chances are they stopped. Travel for Beverly was not about checking off destinations; it was about observing, learning, and connecting with the places and people she encountered.
Beverly and my brother were deeply involved in their Corbett community. Their home was always buzzing with people coming and going. They fostered children, opened their doors to neighbors and friends, and made sure no one they knew ever spent a holiday alone. Holiday dinners often included those who had nowhere else to go, and everyone was welcomed as family.
Books and creativity were another essential part of who Beverly was. She loved to read, write, and paint. When she visited Wenatchee, a trip to the used bookstore was always on her list, and she never failed to come out with a book for me, too. At the blueberry farm, she took particular delight in asking visiting children if they liked books. If they said yes, she would take them into her library and let them choose one to take home.
Beverly loved writing stories. They were creative renditions of her travels and her interactions with her daughter, her many grandchildren, and other people along the way. She gathered these stories into collections and had them printed into small booklets. I was honored to discover that one of those booklets had been dedicated to me.
She also had the most beautiful handwriting I have ever seen. Beverly was thoughtful and intentional in writing notes and letters, and I treasured every one I received from her.
Beverly lived with generosity, curiosity, creativity, and grace. Her life was rich with connection and purpose. She will be remembered in the gardens she tended, the stories she wrote, the books she shared, the people she welcomed, and the countless lives she touched simply by being who she was.
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