It is with incredible gratitude and a heavy heart that I share the passing of my mom, Marj Wallace, on January 6th, 2024. She cherished the quiet love and warmth of others in her final times and found deep comfort in the gentle, heartfelt support she received. I feel so privileged to have been by her side at the end of this incredible journey.
My mom approached her final days with the same warmth and grace she showed throughout her life. She remained deeply connected to those around her and found comfort in making thoughtful decisions about her care. I reassured her that she could shape her experience in the way that felt right to her, and shortly after, she took her final breaths surrounded by love. I can see now that she chose the precise timing for me and Derek, a reflection of her incredible thoughtfulness and love for us.

Her last words were "incredible"—spoken with clarity and strength that even the nurse said was rare. While I believe they referred to her pain, I also choose to believe they reflected her incredible life. From her beginnings on a rural Kelowna farm to the vibrant adventures of her young adult years as a nursing student and then meeting my dad in Vancouver, she built a life filled with meaning and connections. My mom embraced joy in so many incredible forms: sailing, skiing, road trips, and living abroad in Vienna with my dad. She had a robust technical career, rare for women at that time. She was a caring mother, a tireless caregiver for my dad during his decline with MSA, and a proud and engaged Nana and GG. For the past 52 years, her passion for hula dancing and the community it brought her was inspiring. The friendships and bonds she created through her many roles in life are truly incredible—she seems to have had more friends than my entire family combined. (!)

Her final month was one of strength and resilience. While her health changed rapidly, the time in the hospital and hospice and felt elongated—a single day felt like a week. In that sense, her last month stretched into six months, giving her the space to do what was important to her and to find closure.

From her diagnosis of stage 4 metastatic breast cancer in 2020, she defied the odds through sheer toughness and resilience, navigating intense chemo, mastectomy, and radiation to gain five additional years. During these years, she used her quiet mental and physical strength to continue to share a warm and open heart with everyone around her. I don't think most people knew the pain or low energy she felt, as she would never mention it. She’s the toughest person I know, both mentally and physically.

Even in October, she continued taking transit to radiation treatments every day and then taught hula and prepared for dance shows, showcasing her incredible ability to balance resilience with compassion, even as the cancer fiercely returned. The rapid changes in her condition from November to December made her feel like she was "in a play," as she said. Perhaps, in another play, she is still dancing, walking with her group, enjoying vibrant social outings, and going on the many incredible family trips like she did in 2024.

In her last week, she shared that she was "overwhelmed"—not by fear but by gratitude for the incredible support she received. She disliked being alone but was surprised by the outpouring of love and care from so many. It was deeply important that she was never felt alone.

I want to thank the many friends and family who stood by her. It is touching to hear how she impacted so many lives. Her web of friends is very deep and wide! I can see now that she deliberately kept ties and these were fuelled by her natural warmth. The incredible community she built is a beacon, showing how much she meant to others.

This summer, we will celebrate her life, likely with a luau—a fitting tribute to her love for hula and bringing people together. I think she’ll enjoy being the guest of honor at a show she doesn’t need to organize. What an incredible life she lived!

Thank you for all the love and support you’ve shown my mom and my family—it means so much to us.