It seems so very strange to write these words in a world that Annie is no longer living in. If you felt a shift in the earth last night, you were not wrong. Annie passed away in her home, with her dearest Simon at her side while we were asleep. This morning there is of course, the shock of grief, and the warm glow of all the fires she left burning. I guess it is our work now to tend to those fires so that they don't go out. Annie did a really good job of leaving them in so many places to keep us warm. 

Because this cancer moved so quickly and left us scrambling for time, Simon has made the beautiful decision to not rush her memorial. We will keep you updated, but it will be sometime in the spring, when the flowers are blooming and the earth is green again. 

As for now, nothing in particular is needed from the family and Christmas has been taken care of. 
For those of you close enough to her home, we are going to set up a memorial this afternoon. You can stop by her home and leave flowers, a note, a poem, a photo, a little thing of beauty (nothing that will be cumbersome or overwhelming to clean up) over the next few days.

Please go quietly and do not disturb the home, knock on the door, etc... we want to give proper time and space for Simon, the kids and Annie's family to grieve. Her address is 870 South 500 East in Orem.  If you aren't close enough to drop something by but would like to contribute, send whatever it is to annieblakeupdates@gmail.com and I will print it out and leave it for her.  

And lastly, but most importantly, Simon sent these words that were written by him about Annie: 

For my Annie:

 

I have spent the week looking into my past and into my future. 

 

I met Annie in early spring of 2006 when she was sick with mono. I was invited to her apartment to watch a movie after finishing a date with a girl I had nothing in common with. As soon as I walked into Annie’s living room, even while sick beyond belief, I knew that her energy commanded the attention of everyone in her presence. Her energy changed my soul and helped me evolve into the truest version of myself. That was Annie’s gift—her complete inability to hide. Her passion was infectious and anyone able to handle the brightness of her being couldn’t help but be changed. Over the past 14 years I have witnessed my same story play out over and over again in the lives of people who crossed paths with Annie.

 

I don’t know what Annie’s journey will be after transitioning into death. But as I look forward to my life after our parting I can’t help but feel like life will never be as bright or as full. My greatest hope is that her brightness will live on in the lives of the people she has changed. That we will be able to live our lives with the same unapologetic passion.

 

So let’s all eat good food, notice the beauty in the mundane, buy something just because it will make us happy, and fight like hell for anyone that can’t live their fullest lives. Life is short, so we might as well live a life full of passion. -Simon


Lots of love to anyone who is reading this and please, please, take the time to be sad about this incredible loss. Annie showed us that there is so much beauty in what is simple and what is more complex. She would not want us to skip sadness before we move on to whatever else is ahead. Let there be some beauty in this sadness because it means that we all loved her a whole lot. 

I will continue to update here as needed, but the easiest way to reach out with questions, needs, etc... is to email at ashmae.hoiland@gmail.com