​Bonnie May Davidson (Parker)
​May 18, 1946 – May 8, 2026

​Bonnie was a spirit born upon the gale, with eyes that saw the vibrant hues behind the earthly veil. The firstborn daughter of Betty Frances Pond and William Henry Parker, she was a sister to Isabel Raye Langdon and Juanita Faye Parker, and a mother to Bradley Mark Davidson, Miranda Diane Davidson, and Howi Leelannee Thomas. She is survived by her sister Juanita, her daughter Howi, her nieces and nephews, and the four beautiful granddaughters who carry her light forward: Totiana, Melina, Jacy, and Lamira.

In life, she walked a path of canvas strokes and clay shaped by her hand, a student of timeless songs from every far-off land. With needle, thread, and vibrant beads, she stitched her wandering soul, a lover of all cultures, and the art that makes us whole. So beautiful in motion, like a wild and restless light, she painted life in colors that were far too bold and bright.

​On the day she entered into life—that eighteenth day of May — The mountains held their heavy breath, a decade’s span away. Then years later, in her prime, when her fierce temper rose, The earth began to tear apart beneath its winter snows.
Mount St. Helens poured its fire into the sweet spring air, a mirror to the lightning soul that she was born to bear — A wild, volcanic power that no valley could contain, a beautiful, chaotic force of passion and of pain.

​She loved with such a frantic heat, a sharp and jagged flame, And bore the weight of every loss that whispered at her name. The men she met saw only fire, never the hearth or gold; They failed to see the treasure that her weary hands would hold.
But she found a different kinship in the sisters of her choice, who loved her with a steady heart and recognized her voice. They stood in gaps her own blood left, a circle brave and true — The family that she gathered when the one of birth wouldn't do.

​Her children watched her fight and thought that fighting was the way, taking her strength for granted through the heat of every day. We didn't see the heavy price of every mile she trod, until the day her spirit finally went to meet her Creator.

She deserved a world that cherished her, a crown of light and peace, a life where all the heavy burdens finally found release. ​The fire found its quiet on a sunny afternoon, on the eighth of May, the wanderer was called back home too soon.

But she is more than just the pain or struggles she endured; She is the masterpiece complete, her spirit now assured and free. Now she lives where colors blend and every debt is paid, In the quiet, blooming garden that her own brave spirit made.

​Bonnie will continue to live through everyone who loved her. In many ways, this is the truest form of immortality—living on in the stories we tell, the lessons she passed down, and the familiar gestures or expressions that now appear in a new generation.

​Through us, she lives in our strength, our memories, and the way we navigate the world. Through her granddaughters, she lives in their laughter, their creativity, and their personalities. They carry her unique spark forward into the future. Holding onto this connection will forever be a source of comfort and strength; she is not gone, but woven deeply into the fabric of who we are.