On April 3, 2026, Elizabeth Jayne "Beth" Johnston passed away, much too soon, at the age of 68, after a courageous battle with cancer. She is survived by her high school sweetheart and adoring husband of 43 years, Steve (Stephen), and their children, Scott (Sara), Dan (Chelsea), and Emma (Charlie). Beth was enamoured with her grandchildren, Edison and Teegan, Wesley, and wanted so desperately to be here for the birth of her fourth grandchild. She is also survived by her sister, Sandy (Milt) Larsen, who was a guiding presence in her life. Beth was predeceased by her parents, Harriet and Murray Lavers and her second mother, Connie Johnston.

Born in 1957, in Truro, Nova Scotia, Beth was a beautiful soul with a lot of life packed into her small stature. She spoke fondly of her childhood, growing up with grandparents, aunts, uncles, and many cousins. She quickly learned the value of hard work and developed a deep connection with Mother Nature. She would laugh as she retold the story of how much effort it took to save up for a pair of white go-go boots. She understood how impactful time immersed in her garden, Victoria Park, the cottage, or camping adventures were, and was eager to share these experiences with those closest to her.

She loved being in nature and much preferred being in the woods to driving golf balls into them. Gardening, particularly later in life, was a profound shared experience with Steve. They spent countless hours working alongside each other, examining their work, planning the future, and chatting over a drink on the deck as the sun was setting. Their garden will be spectacular this year.

Beth was passionate about her friends and family and had a special talent to connect with children on a level that made them feel seen. While living in Dartmouth, she worked in early childhood intervention, which had a deep lasting impact on her life. Perhaps it was here where her desire to help others really took root.

Beth found it far more joyous to give than to receive. She would quietly buy "extras" in case she found someone that would need or enjoy them. She was genuinely selfless, without ever needing credit. She had a unique ability to make sure the people in her life were taken care of - her husband, children, grandchildren, friends, neighbours, community members, those less fortunate, or even someone she had just met would often experience Beth’s empathy and genuine kindness. She was recognized as the "volunteer of the year" on several different occasions.

Beth was a visionary. She had an unmatched ability to see potential beyond how things appeared. Her creative side was inspiring. Her talents and hard work were on display with her design business, Art of the Garden. She loved her work and could transform spaces beyond anyone’s expectations, such as her passion project restoring The Balmoral Kirk.

She understood that life was cyclical. Sometimes you’re ahead, sometimes you’re behind, but the road is long, and at some point you should invest in a comfortable pair of shoes.

The void left by her death will be felt deeply. We will miss you every day. We will carry on the lessons that you have given us. Forget-me-not? How could we?

A Celebration of Beth’s life will be held at The Balmoral Kirk, The Falls, NS, on July 11, 2026 at 1 pm. In lieu of flowers a donation can be made to the Colchester Historeum in her name.

Arrangements have been entrusted to Mattatall – Varner Funeral Home, 55 Young Street, Truro. Tributes, words of comfort and memories may be shared at: www.mattatallvarnerfh.com

Let my gardens speak for me when I am gone
 Let them speak in colored whispers of all the beauty I have seen and felt, and lived
 Let them speak of how much death had to find me
 How many hard seasons it took to make me a living, breathing thing
 Let them speak of my seasons of growth and abundance
 But let them also tell of my seasons of loss and decay
 Let the soft, wet earth be a reminder of hardness that didn't win
 Of sadness that didn't calcify
 Of surrender that triumphed over resistance
 And let the glorious, fragrant blooms speak of my life and its greatest lesson
 That the beauty we make never dies
 Come sit by my garden

"Come sit by my garden"- Emory Hall, Trevor Hall