Amy Johnson

Amy Johnson, beloved daughter, mother, grandmother, sister, aunt, nurse, and friend, passed away unexpectedly on September 3, 2026, at the age of 56.

Born April 29, 1970, Amy lived with a heart that was often bigger than the life around her. She was compassionate, funny, spontaneous, stubborn, occasionally absent-minded, and blessed with an unmistakable laugh. She had a smile that welcomed people in, a quick and sometimes wonderfully chaotic way of telling a story, and an energy all her own. Her daughter Taylor may have described her best: Amy was a "beautiful hurricane."

Anyone who knew Amy also knew about "Amy Time." Being on time was simply never one of her gifts. She set the clocks in her home ahead in an attempt to keep herself on schedule, while her family learned to tell her that gatherings started an hour earlier than they actually did - and sometimes took bets on when she would arrive. But in the end, Amy always made it there.

Amy loved the St. Croix River and the Boomsite, swimming and soaking up the sun, motorcycle rides, fireworks, animals, spontaneous adventures, and especially time spent with her family. As a girl, she played hockey with friends at the rink in St. Mary's Point, wanting to make her dad proud. Her father also remembered trying to teach her to cast a fishing lure from a canoe on East Lake, only to watch Amy accidentally send the entire fishing rod into the water - a memory that brought laughter then and still does today.

Amy's greatest loves were her children, Eric, Taylor, and Jordan, and her grandchildren, Aiden, Kolie, Lance, and Madisyn. She absolutely loved being a grandmother. Aiden was her "Yoda," Kolie her "KoKo," Lance her "Lancey Boy," and Madisyn was her "Ms. Madi." She was present for the births of her grandchildren, helped her children through times when life became overwhelming, and never missed an opportunity to hug, kiss, call, check in, or simply remind them that she loved them. 

In fact, no matter how a conversation went, Amy had a habit of ending it with three words: "I love you."

Caring for others wasn't simply something Amy did - it was part of who she was. As a licensed practical nurse (LPN) and caregiver, particularly in elder care, she brought remarkable patience, gentleness, humor, and compassion to the people entrusted to her. She treated those she cared for with dignity and affection, often speaking about them as though they were members of her own family. Her daughters had the opportunity to work alongside their mother in caregiving roles and witnessed firsthand the tenderness and dedication she gave to others.

That same gift became especially meaningful within her own family when her mother, Susan, developed Alzheimer's disease. Amy devoted herself to helping care for her mom, making it possible for Susan to remain in the home she loved. She did her mother's hair and nails, helped her with perfume and clothes, kept her active when she could, talked with her normally and lovingly, and made sure Susan never had reason to doubt that her daughter was there. Near the end of Susan's life, Amy even made sure her mom got out for one last joyride.

Those closest to Amy also saw quieter moments that captured her heart. Her brother Mike remembers finding Amy sitting on the floor beside their mother's chair, gently holding and rubbing Susan's hand. Despite everything happening in Amy's own life, she looked peaceful simply sitting there with her mom. It is a memory he will always carry with him.

Amy's compassion extended to animals as well. Her pets - including her beloved Shiloh and Hazey Boy - were family and, in many ways, her best friends. She welcomed strays, cared for her children's animals, helped with veterinary care when needed, and was there during the painful moments when a beloved pet had to be let go.

Family gatherings brought out some of the best of Amy. She moved from person to person, laughing, talking, hugging and often ending up playing with the kids. Her brothers remember a sister who was easygoing but stubborn, goofy and easily amused, and whose greetings usually involved enormous hugs. Mike sometimes joked that he practically had to peel his "seester" off him. Amy called him her "Mikey Bro" or "Brother Mikey," and her daughters remember that she had a special soft spot for him because he made her feel safe. She loved her brother Rick deeply as well and treasured the ways he helped her and loved her through life's chaos.

Amy was also known for sentimental cards, long-winded voicemails, rapid-fire conversations, trips down memory lane, and a willingness to offer help even when she had obstacles of her own. She loved fiercely and imperfectly, and those who knew her understood that beneath all of the commotion was an extraordinarily gentle and caring soul.

Amy was raised in the Lutheran faith and confirmed as a young woman. Her family takes comfort in their faith and in imagining Amy once again with her mother, Susan, free from the burdens of this life and surrounded by those who went before her.

Amy was preceded in death by her mother, Susan Jean (Ives) Burns; her stepmother, Sharon Jacobson; and other beloved relatives who went before her.

She is survived by her father, Allan Theodore "Ted" Jacobson; her children, Eric Johnson, Taylor Johnson, and Jordan Johnson; her four grandchildren, Aiden Johnson, Kolie Rightman, Lance Rightman, and Madisyn Johnson; her brothers, Michael Jacobson (Kelly) and Richard Jacobson (Rachel); and her stepsisters, Debra Hoffrogge (Dean) and Sheila Poechmann.

Amy is also survived by her nephews, Matthew Jacobson (Lindsey) and Alex Jacobson (Molly); her niece, Michaela Carlson; her step-nephew, Ryan Hoffrogge; her step-niece, Laura Hoffrogge; her great-nephew, Noah Jacobson; and her great-niece, Aria Wschola, along with other relatives, friends, former patients and families whose lives she touched.

Her children want Amy to be remembered for her laughter, her smile, her quirkiness, her sense of humor, and above all, the way she loved them. Through the happy memories and the difficult ones, they know their mother did the best she could, and they are grateful for all the love she gave her children and grandchildren.

There will never be another Amy. She was late, loud, loving, funny, tender, chaotic, compassionate, and completely herself - a beautiful hurricane who left behind a lifetime of stories, laughter, hugs, and "I love yous."

Amy, you were deeply loved, and you will be missed more than words can say.

A Celebration of Life honoring Amy will be held at a later date. Details will be shared by the family once arrangements have been finalized.