Born Shirley Louise Johns on March 28, 1944, in Great Falls, Montana, she passed on May 17, 2026, leaving behind an immeasurable void that only an extraordinary presence could make.
Rumi wrote that "Love is the bridge between you and everything," and no words more perfectly describe how Shirley moved through the world. She led with love and kindness—bridging any distance with a quick smile, an open-hearted hug, and a genuine interest in you that made the rest of the world fall away. Her love was quiet but tenacious—unhurried, unshakeable, and utterly without condition. Still and calm on the surface, it held within it a steely, invisible strength that bore the full weight of everyone who leaned on it, and upon which everything else stood. It was felt in the way she showed up, cheered on, held fast, and listened so completely it made you feel truly valued and wholly capable. It held across years and miles without effort or erosion, and it holds still, even now, across the distance none of us were ready for.
Her love expressed itself most naturally in connection, drawing people together and making sure no one stood outside the circle. Her dinner table was a theology unto itself: there was always, without question, “room for one more.” Around it, joys multiplied and sorrows dissolved in the solvency of her love. She quietly wove everyone together in ways that will forever remain the bridge between her and everything.
Her legacy will not be measured in milestones, but in moments. In the warmth of a hug that feels instantly like home. In loved ones gathering to laugh, reconnect, and inevitably hold a pose for "one more photo." In grandchildren growing into themselves, forever anchored by the unconditional love and support she gave so freely. In relationships made unbreakable by a care so deep and true it becomes the ground people stand on. And in the enduring strength of a love so steadfast it bridges time, distance, and now, absence.
Another legacy familiar to all who knew her was a boundless love of Christmas—a season she held close for the continuity it conjured: the warmth of her parents whom she lost too young, and the traditions that bound past to present in a thread of memory that never frayed. At the center of it all was Santa Claus—not as a belief to be outgrown, but as an invitation to hope without limit, to wonder without apology, and to trust that goodness is real, that it finds you, and that the world holds far more magic than we can see. That belief deepened with each year, and she tended it in everyone around her with the same devotion she brought to everything she held dear.
That devotion came alive most tenderly at the close of each Christmas Eve, when she read aloud a Christmas story chosen by her children, and later, her grandchildren. The Littlest Angel was a favorite—beloved since Shirley first watched the animated version as a 1st grader. It is the tale of a young, disheveled angel with no grand gift to offer—only a humble box of ordinary things made precious by his love and the life they connected him to. And it is that gift—the most imperfect, most human one of all—that God lifts to the heavens to become the shining star of Bethlehem. Shirley was that gift. A modest life filled with extraordinary treasures made precious by her: every person loved, every moment gathered, every connection nurtured with unwavering devotion, now lifted to burn steady, bright and eternal—silently guiding anyone who is lost or needs, someday, to find their way back home.
Home for her could also be found in the Montana outdoors—in the landscape her father had loved and passed down like a quiet inheritance. She found it horn hunting on the Game Range, Christmas tree hunting, and hiking and camping with her family on adventures that felt less like a small family outing and more like a Lewis and Clark expedition in full. It was in these same wide open spaces that another of her cherished traditions took root—one that, like the land itself, connected her to the people she came from and carried forward in everything she loved.
She attended the University of Montana, earning a degree in sociology and anthropology before completing a master's in guidance and counseling. As a school counselor at Central School in Whitefish, she exercised her rare gift for helping others see through their challenges and past the stories they told themselves. She quieted doubt, expanded possibility, and reflected back a version of them that was larger, stronger, and more worthy than they had ever imagined. She carried that same grace to Flathead Valley Community College in Kalispell, where she continued to help students grow into their best selves—and also met her first husband, Noel Larrivee, with whom she shares two daughters, Lisa and Lindsey.
After the loss of her mother, she returned to Great Falls and turned helping her brother Chuck with finish carpentry into a second career in residential construction. It suited her perfectly—she built everything to last, whether a house or a relationship, with exacting care and the quiet conviction that anything worth doing was worth doing right. The last house she and Chuck built became the home she shared with her second husband Jake for 38 years—built, like everything she touched, with love and the intention that anyone inside would always feel safe and cared for.
She passed in her home after a brief but determined fight to win “more good days” from the cancer that bested her. True to the last, she did not concede one inch until the very end and only let go once she knew everyone else would be okay and felt her deep love that will forever be the bridge between us all.
She is survived by her sisters Verna Kessner and Sharon Strunk, and sister-in-law Shelley Johns; daughters Lisa and Lindsey Larrivee and stepdaughter Kristel Borsos; husband Jake Tuck; grandchildren Jacob and Simone Williams, Luca Larrivee, Seraphina Gardner, and Hadley Borsos; 1st and 2nd nieces, nephews and cousins; best friends Claudette Jones, Louise Freeman, and Margo Voermans; and a wide community of deeply cherished friends. She is preceded in death by her parents, Norman and Bertha Johns; her sister, Deloris "Dee" Johns; and her brother, Charles "Chuck" Johns.
On August 29, 2026, from 5:30 to 9:00 pm, we're gathering at the Lewis and Clark Interpretive Center at 4201 Giant Springs Road, Great Falls, Montana, to do what she did best: bring people together. All who loved her are welcome to stop by, share a story and connect, and there is, as always, room for one more.
We'll also be sharing a BBQ buffet featuring one of her favorites—pulled pork sandwiches. If you plan to join us for dinner, please RSVP at everloved.com/life-of/shirley-louise-tuck so we can save you a seat.
If you're thinking of sending flowers, the family would be touched if you considered directing that kindness toward Dolly Parton’s Imagination Library instead. Shirley believed that a book placed in a child's hands was a gift that could last a lifetime—and there is no better way to carry her tradition forward than by putting one in the hands of a child who needs it most.
And if you'd like to honor her in another way, do it the way she would have wanted: reach out to someone who may feel alone. Make room. Hug more. Remind the people you love that they are the most precious treasures you have been fortunate enough to hold close.
"Goodbyes are only for those who love with their eyes. For those who love with heart and soul, there is no such thing as separation." — Rumi
To share condolences, click here to visit the Croxford Funeral Home website.
