Lyla Noreen Jacobsen

December 16, 1933  –  June 4, 2025

Lyla Noreen Jacobsen

Lyla Noreen Jacobsen, a woman of immense warmth and unyielding kindness, passed away peacefully on June 4, 2025, at the age of 91 in Kirkland, Washington—the community she deeply loved. Born on December 16, 1933, in the sweeping coulees of Alberta, Canada, Lyla lived a life defined by love, service, curiosity, and joyful generosity.

She showed us all how to give love freely and unconditionally. Her life was a living testament to planting seeds—of family, love, and land—leaving behind a legacy that will continue to bloom in the hearts of those she touched

Lyla began her lifelong path of caring for others in 1956 as an ER nurse and later earned a diploma in Public Health from the University of British Columbia in 1961. The following year, she married the love of her life—her favorite guy—, Gert Jacobsen, and together they moved to Seattle where Lyla continued her nursing career at Swedish Hospital. There, she thrived as a team lead nurse—mentoring colleagues, nurturing patients, and leading with both steadiness and spark.

Family was the cornerstone of Lyla’s world. She and Gert welcomed two sons— Jeff (b. 1965) and Steve (b. 1966), —and with them, her greatest purpose bloomed. As a mother, Lyla was boundless in her love. She raised her boys with the same gentle care she extended to everyone she met—a trait that defined her very soul.

Lyla was a true Northwest soul, an artist and explorer who felt most alive in the great outdoors—from the rugged peaks of Mount Rainier to windswept walks along Kalaloch Beach. Her deep connection to the outdoors found expression in her art—vivid, thoughtful, and ever inspired by the wild beauty around her. Lyla’s paintings hung not just in galleries, hospitals, and libraries across the Pacific Northwest, but also in the homes of friends, neighbors, and strangers alike. She gave them away freely—handsomely framed by Gert, of course—as expressions of love, encouragement, and shared spirit. Her love of nature also found expression in the garden. She was always bringing the outside in with never less than three to five vases of flowers adorning her home all year around.

She inspired countless creative souls to follow their own path with courage, with joy, and without apology. She was a painter, a gardener, a singer, a dancer, and a bringer of light.

Her influence extended well beyond her home. She was active in the Scandinavian immigrant community in Seattle, built enduring friendships, and was a cherished member of the Eastside Association of Fine Arts. Through her volunteer work at Little Bit Therapeutic Riding Center, she gave her time and heart to children and adults with disabilities, embodying her lifelong spirit of care and compassion.

To her grandchildren, Peyton and Amelia, Lyla was more than a grandmother—she was “Farmor,” a magical presence who created art with them, cooked beside them, camped under the stars, and taught them how to live with joy, wonder, and purpose.

Lyla is survived by her beloved husband of 63 years, Gert Jacobsen; her son Jeff and wife Carrie parents to her treasured grandchildren, Peyton, Amelia and Peyton’s partner Sam Sueoka, and her second son Steve and wife Laura; and a wide circle of family, friends, and loved ones—both near and far—including her adorable sisters and all her extended family and friends in Canada and Denmark along with members of the Danish-American community who counted her as chosen family.

Her legacy lives on in her art, her garden, her family, and in all the lives she quietly transformed through her presence, her humor, and her boundless kindness.

A celebration of Lyla’s life will be held on Wednesday, July 2, 2025, at 1:00 PM at Holy Spirit Lutheran Church, 10021 NE 124th St, Kirkland, WA 98034.

In lieu of flowers, donations may be made in Lyla’s memory to Evergreen Hospice whose compassionate care supported her in her final days or EAFA, at eafa.org

Lyla believed the best way to end the day was with a little song, a dance in the kitchen, and a full heart. Last we heard, she was galloping off into the sunset—riding steady on her childhood horse, Red