Cynthia Michelle Morasch Johnson

Cynthia “Cyndi” Michelle Morasch Johnson, 66, passed away on August 24, 2026, at the University of Washington Medical Center in Seattle after a courageous battle with metastatic breast cancer, surrounded by the love of the family she spent her life caring for. Cyndi was born on October 6, 1959, in Kansas City, Missouri, to Carol Adams and Donald Wolfe. She was adopted and raised by Norman Morasch. In 1969, the family moved to Washington State, where her parents managed Camaloch Golf Course on Camano Island until they purchased and operated The Little Store by the Bay in Utsalady. She graduated from Stanwood High School in 1978, where she was a standout track athlete and part of an extraordinary era in Stanwood track and field. During her high school career, her team broke multiple state records; in 1975 alone, the team broke 12 of 14 records, with Cyndi competing in events including the 880-yard relay, 100-yard dash, and 440-yard relay. Cyndi was a member of both the 1975 and 1977 championship track teams, which were later inducted into the Stanwood High School Athletic Hall of Fame. Her track coach, Sue Paulson, remembers Cyndi as a “spitfire.” Cyndi excelled in the 100-yard dash and regularly finished first or second at meets. Sue also remembers that beneath Cyndi’s fierce competitive spirit were plenty of nerves. Before one state meet, Cyndi was so nervous that she drank too much Pepto-Bismol in an attempt to settle her stomach and ended up getting sick in the bathroom. But she pulled herself together, made it out onto the track, and competed anyway—a story that perfectly captures both her spirited personality and her determination. Cyndi became a mother to her daughters, Erica and Katie, during her first marriage to Scott Healy. She loved her daughters fiercely and devoted much of her life to raising them. After finding a love for caregiving while working at Josephine Sunset Home in Stanwood, Cyndi went on to become a Registered Nurse at Skagit Valley Hospital/Affiliated Health Services and relocated to Mount Vernon. She deeply valued and took great pride in her nursing career. She was an excellent nurse and a natural caretaker, bringing compassion, strength, and a genuine desire to help others to her work. Erica and Katie have fond memories of visiting Mom at work—floor 2NW, to be exact—getting popsicles out of the break room, and meeting all of her nurse friends. Although a work-related injury in the mid-1990s changed the course of her nursing career and left her disabled, being a caretaker was never simply a job to Cyndi—it was part of who she was. Long after she stopped working as a nurse, she continued caring for the people around her in countless ways. After the end of her first marriage, Cyndi met and married Donald Charles Phillips III. In 1998, she experienced one of the greatest losses of her life when Charlie passed away in a car accident, leaving her a grieving young widow and mother. It was a profound loss that remained a part of her story. In time, Cyndi found love again with Ken Johnson. Together they built a life that would span 27 years, blending their families and sharing the joys, challenges, and ordinary moments that make up a life together. Ken became Cyndi’s protector and one of her greatest sources of strength. He stood beside her through her first battle with breast cancer in 2015 and, when cancer returned a decade later, devoted himself to caring for her throughout the final year of her life. Through appointments, treatments, difficult days, and all the uncertainty that came with her illness, Ken was there—caring for her, protecting her, and helping carry her through. Cyndi was the kind of mother who took care of you when you were sick and spoiled you rotten on the holidays. Her daughters grew up surrounded by furry and scaled friends because Cyndi had an enormous heart for animals. She couldn’t resist a creature—or a person—who needed somewhere safe to land. At one point, she even had a six-foot ball python she named Matilda. Over the years, she opened her home to teens who needed shelter, a meal, or simply someone willing to care. Her daughter Katie noticed that anytime they went to the store together on their lunch dates, Cyndi would always compliment a stranger or help an older woman by returning her cart. She would donate to strangers’ GoFundMe pages or try to buy food for local police officers at Haggen when she saw them there—even though they weren’t allowed to accept it. In more recent years, Cyndi found a new kind of critter to care for and discovered tremendous joy in raising her backyard chickens. Like all the animals that came before them, they weren’t simply animals to her; they were part of the family. From then on, it was chicken everything—every holiday, we knew to get Mom something chicken-related, although frogs were always an easy choice too. We know she’s in Heaven petting all the animals and reunited with many of her beloved dogs. Upon her terminal diagnosis in June of 2025, she said the first thing she was going to do in Heaven was “hug a grizzly bear.” Cyndi was funny, fiercely loving, sarcastic, and wonderfully blunt. You rarely had to wonder what she was thinking. One of the phrases she returned to throughout life’s hardest moments was, “This too shall pass.” She loved bowling, softball, gardening, and BBQs with friends, but after her injury, her interests changed to things like watching her favorite shows and movies, reading all types of books—from the horror genre to her Bible—chatting with her friends near and far, and, of course, as anyone who knew her knows, she loved slot machines. She knew how to laugh, how to be stubborn, and how to make her presence known. Above everything else, Cyndi loved her family. It was rare that a day went by without her talking to her daughters. Even while battling cancer and living with tremendous pain, Cyndi was still thinking about everyone else. She could be sick and hurting and still ask, “What do you need from Costco?” If someone she loved needed something, she wanted to help. She was there for the phone calls, the hugs, the illnesses, the holidays, the ordinary days, and all of the seemingly insignificant moments that now mean everything. There was one thing her family could always count on: no conversation with Cyndi ended without “I love you,” and no goodbye in person was complete without a hug. Her faith became an especially important source of strength during the difficult final chapter of her life. When she was diagnosed with terminal cancer in the summer of 2025, she leaned heavily on that faith as she faced what was ahead. Her family is grateful she found solace and peace in it. Cyndi was preceded in death by her father, Norman Morasch; her second husband, Donald Charles Phillips III; her father-in-law, Arnold Johnson; her mother-in-law, Doris Johnson; her aunt, Judy Showalter; and her beloved and very missed mother, Carol Masewitz. Cyndi is survived by her husband of 27 years, Ken Johnson; her daughters, Erica Healy (Tyler) and Katie Clements (Brock); her stepsons, Justin and Damian Johnson; her stepbrother, Charley Morasch; her beloved granddaughters, Xeny, Ava, and recently born baby Lilah; and many cousins, extended family members, and dear friends who will carry her memory with them. During Cyndi’s month-long hospitalization at the end of her life, she was surrounded by an extraordinary circle of love and support. Her longtime friend Terry Kirkman, whose friendship with Cyndi spanned decades, was by her side nearly every day, helping care for her and sharing hospital shifts with Ken. Cyndi’s stepbrother, Charley, also traveled to be with her and took shifts at the hospital, helping ensure that she was rarely without someone she loved nearby. The devotion shown to Cyndi during those incredibly difficult weeks meant more to her family than words can adequately express. Cyndi’s family is especially grateful to Ken for the care and devotion he gave her throughout her illness, and to her Sisters in Christ, including Lisa Healy Foster, Beth Houston, Terry Kirkman, Susan Kruckenberg, her high school best friend Kim Maucher Hollingsworth, and so many others who surrounded Cyndi with prayer, love, friendship, and encouragement throughout her journey. The family would also like to extend their heartfelt gratitude to Cyndi’s oncology team at PeaceHealth in Sedro-Woolley and her care team at UW Medical Center–Montlake for the care and compassion they provided throughout her illness, as well as to the volunteers who created a beautiful quilt for Cyndi during her hospital stay, giving her an unexpected piece of comfort during an incredibly difficult time. They are deeply grateful to Rebecca and Cecelia, who stayed beside Erica and Katie on the worst day of their lives; and to longtime family friend Nicole, who considered Cyndi a second mom and came alongside the family with love and support in the days following her death. The family is also grateful to Justin and Damian for being there to support their dad through the loss of Cyndi. Finally, Cyndi’s family extends their gratitude to the many friends and family members who called, visited, prayed, brought comfort, offered help, and carried them through Cyndi’s illness and loss. There are far too many people to name individually, but every act of kindness was felt, every gesture mattered, and none will be forgotten. Cyndi’s life cannot be summed up simply by the illness that took her. She was a nurse, a gifted athlete, an animal lover, a friend, and, above all, a wife, a mother, and a grandmother. She was sarcastic and stubborn, generous and protective, funny and deeply loving. She showed her love through actions—through meals, running errands, taking care of someone who was sick, opening her home, answering the phone, and making sure the people she loved knew they were loved. Her family will miss the sound of her voice, the smell of her signature perfume, her sarcasm, her advice, her hugs, and the comfort of simply knowing she was there. She was always there. And they will forever be grateful that with Cyndi, the most important words were never left unsaid: I love you. Momma, we know that if you could send us a message from Heaven about the pain of losing you, it would be the same words you gave us so many times before: “This too shall pass.” In honor of Cyndi, please consider paying it forward to a stranger in whatever way you can, making a donation to your local animal shelter, or supporting the fight for a cure for breast cancer. Please join our family to celebrate the life of Cyndi on Saturday, October 17, 2026 at noon. The Saltbox Barn 17995 Fir Island Road Mount Vernon Wa. Please bring a dish to share for a potluck gathering.