Jessica Dasler

So much life. So much love.

A Life Lived Deeply

The many lives of Jessica Dasler

Jessica somehow lived many lives inside just 42 years. Not because she was trying to fit more into life, but because she understood something about living that many of us spend a lifetime trying to discover.

There was the shy little girl from Ladner who loved rollerblading, sang and danced with her friends, and became a vegetarian long before it was fashionable, unfazed by the teasing about tofu and rice milk.

There was the traveller, the athlete, the artist, the photographer, the writer, the counsellor, the teacher, the advocate, the wife, and the mother. Jessica collected experiences, but more importantly, she collected meaning. Thousands of photographs, journals, poems, and letters from friends dating back to childhood were carefully kept. She understood that ordinary moments could become extraordinary memories.

Jessica had a remarkable ability to connect with people. She was curious about who they were, what they believed, what they had experienced, and what made them who they were. Conversations with her rarely stayed on the surface. She wanted to understand people, and in doing so, made them feel understood.

Jessica also built a chosen family around herself: friends who came to know her deeply and cared for her with open hearts. They met her without judgment or preconceived ideas, and loved the person she was. With them, she could be fully herself, understood, accepted, and held close. Their friendship was one of the great loves of her life, and the care they gave her mattered deeply.

And then there was her joy. Pure, infectious, uninhibited joy.

In her early adulthood Jessica earned the nickname “Happy Feet” because she rarely seemed to walk anywhere. She skipped, bounced, or broke into a little jog, often with an big smile on her face, as though simply getting from one place to another was something worth being happy about. There was a lightness to the way she moved through the world, an almost childlike wonder in being alive.

Jessica loved to dance. She was often the first on the dance floor, drawing everyone else in with her. A high school friend once described her as “dance-floor glitter,” recalling a high school reunion when she looked at Jess dancing and thought, “Who needs a disco ball? We have Jess.”

But Jessica’s light was never just about being the centre of a room. She had a gravity that drew people together. Friendships, relationships, and even marriages began because she saw connections between people that others might have missed.

She found beauty in the natural world, particularly in the forest. Among the trees, she found a quietness that restored her, especially when life became unbearably difficult. Nature was more than somewhere she visited. It was somewhere she felt she belonged.

Of all the lives Jessica lived, motherhood was the one she had longed for most. It wasn’t simply something she hoped to experience one day; it was a calling she had felt since she was young, a deep sense of purpose woven into the life she dreamed of. After years of hoping and the enormous challenges of IVF, Vera finally arrived, and Jessica’s greatest dream became her reality.

She was an extraordinary mother. Patient, nurturing, playful, endlessly creative, and deeply devoted. She gave Vera not just her love, but her curiosity about the world, her appreciation for nature, her imagination, and her wonderful sense of adventure. Whether they were dancing in the living room, creating art, making potions in the backyard, or simply spending a quiet afternoon together, Jessica had a way of making ordinary moments feel special. She understood that childhood was made up of these little moments, and she treasured them.

Even through her most difficult years of never ending surgeries and treatments, being Vera’s mother remained her greatest joy, her deepest source of love, and perhaps the truest expression of who she was. Of all the extraordinary things Jessica accomplished in her 42 years, nothing meant more to her than being Vera’s mom.

When cancer entered her life, Jessica refused to let it define her. She searched for possibilities where others saw none, endured unimaginable pain, and somehow continued to make room for other people’s suffering. As a cancer coach and advocate, she helped patients find doctors, treatments, and sometimes precious additional time with their families.

Her courage was astonishing, but perhaps even more remarkable was her compassion. Even in her hardest moments that few could even fathom, she continued reaching outward.

Jessica understood both the beauty and fragility of being alive. She experienced extraordinary joy and extraordinary suffering, yet never stopped believing in the importance of love, connection, and the possibility of helping someone else.

She didn’t simply move through people’s lives. She changed their direction.

Jessica’s mindset shaped the extraordinary life she lived. She approached the world with curiosity, optimism, and a belief that there was always something beautiful to discover, someone worth knowing, or another possibility worth exploring. Even in the face of unimaginable challenges, she never lost her desire to experience life fully. Her life was not defined by the suffering she endured, but by the joy, love, adventure, and meaning she created along the way. Jessica had a beautiful life. Not an easy one, but a deeply beautiful one.

Her final message was to give love to the world, and not be afraid to accept love from others.

Jessica spent her life doing both.

And she left behind far more love than she found. 

I am grateful for my breath because…

When my breath slows down,
will you wrap me in a blanket
and whisper words of love
Surprise me with little gifts,
like rays of light glistening through the trees,
or a gust of wind that runs past my cheek.

Don’t come too soon as I have more to do
to explore, to change, to watch, to love
and most of all, wrap our daughter up tight,
so she feels at peace.

Life means so much what more could there be?
guide me by the trees
guide me by the light
guide me by the birds singing.
guide me by the paths that is paved for me
and that gives my little family the home
I found.

You don’t scare me,
but the missing out does.
missing the one we created
missing the experience life.

Please let me be a part of her life longer
to give her guidance to what’s to come.

-Jessica Dasler

In Jessica’s memory

In lieu of flowers, donations may be made to CCRAN and the MY CRC Foundation, two organizations supporting people and families affected by colorectal cancer.

CCRAN offered Jessica support during her illness and works across Canada to provide patients and caregivers with support, education and advocacy.

https://www.ccran.org/donate

The MY CRC Foundation supports people affected by early-onset colorectal cancer and helps patients and families find information to make informed decisions about care.

https://mycrcfoundation.com/donate