Christopher Jensen

On December 19, 2019 Christopher’s work here on earth came to an end.

Farming is a profession of hope. When so much is owed to a six-inch layer of topsoil and the fact that it rains, hope becomes the thing those working the earth rely on. Pair it with skill, enthusiasm, and love like Christopher Barton Jensen did and there would never be a want of anything. Born on September 16, 1990 to Barton and Karen Jensen, Christopher was the embodiment of hope and home.

Throughout his life he easily made people feel loved, connected, and comforted; and the light in his eyes filled passing hearts with hope and jubilation. Christopher had a knack for making others feel good. Growing up getting a little dirty, learning how things worked, and spending time with family were what lifted Christopher’s spirit. The breath of life was blown deeply into Christopher, so much so that he often defied the odds, and as he grew, he vibrated with the electric thrum of that life. He lived and watching him live was beautiful.

Christopher loved being outside to ski, swim, or work hard splitting wood. Summertime would see him cut, rake, and bale hay for the family cows, dash around neighboring Enumclaw dairy farms to lend a hand, master the art of splitting wood with a single hand, and blast country music. Still, sometimes the saddle would call, and work would wait, he took after his mother Karen that way, and he would jump onto his pony Honey.

His full-time job was as his father’s shadow. Together they would do farm chores, run excavators and tractors, mix grease with dirt as they repaired machinery, and make their regular Saturday deliveries. Always with Christopher riding shotgun and wearing a bright, irresistible smile. The monuments at Crazy Horse, Mt. Rushmore, and Devil’s Tower filled him with delight. So too did the painted skies of the Badlands, the red rock glow of New Mexico, and the flair of Oklahoma. Canada, and the frequent visits there, saw his father baptize him while surrounded by family and friends. But always he would return home to Washington, to the land he worked, and the people he loved.

Those who knew Christopher best knew that home is the nicest word there is. Christopher was home to everyone because home is not a place it’s a feeling. On December 19, 2019 Christopher’s work here on earth came to an end. To plant a garden is to believe in tomorrow. Christopher believed in endless tomorrows, whether they be here with the dirt and the fields or in the kingdoms of glory in heaven. Those who remain to tend Christopher’s garden and be his hope for tomorrow are his father Bart; his siblings Kelly, Amy, Marissa, and Cameron; and many wonderful cousins, nephews, and friends.

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