Anya lived fiercely for all of her 27 years. She was quick-witted, funny, kind, stubborn — and extremely independent. She said "yes" to challenges that would make most people shudder, and had a limitless capacity for hard work. Ninety hours a week at ValleyFair? No problem. Memorizing an entire textbook to ace a test? Absolutely. And her fearlessness took on deeper meaning at age 19, when she developed a dangerous case of meningitis and intracranial hypertension while at college. The illness ended a planned semester abroad and altered the course of her life. 

Until then, she had bulldozed her way through school, racking up achievement after achievement at Nova Classical Academy in St. Paul: yearbook editor, all-conference volleyball player, mock trial state champion, National Merit Scholar — even prom queen. She chose Arizona State University for its top-notch journalism program — and its distance from home, excelling as a student and photographer. But establishing herself at ASU was complicated by a semester off for four brain surgeries at the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, where doctors continued to investigate her confusing array of symptoms. 

With the meningitis and headaches still not under control, Anya toughed out a successful summer photo internship in Oklahoma. The next school year, when she started to lose feeling in one foot, she bought a bicycle to get around. Typical Anya solution. In May 2019, after a spine biopsy, Mayo discovered that Anya had Erdheim-Chester Disease, an ultra-rare and incurable cancer with about 2,000 known cases in the world. Although there were no approved medical treatments for her mutational profile, Anya persisted, despite symptoms and medication side effects, completing a prestigious News21 fellowship and more coursework at ASU, until illness forced her home for chemo. She graduated remotely in December 2019 — after only six semesters — and was named an Outstanding Undergraduate at the Cronkite School of Journalism. 

Back at home, Anya found comfort in what had always been an important relationship with her sister, Talia. Whether it was laughing in hospital rooms, watching old TV shows, or brainstorming "grown up" grocery lists together, their bond remained unwavering. 

In March 2020, as the world shut down for the pandemic, a sliver of hope emerged. A second spine biopsy revealed a unique mutation her doctor thought might respond to an existing drug, although it had never been used for her cancer. And it worked, with minimal side effects — except for the pure-white hair Anya came to love. The drug didn't cure the cancer, but it stopped its growth, finally giving her a shot at independence. That December, she earned a master's degree in communications from ASU. 

But Anya's transition from near-certain death to being a "normal" 22-year-old was not clean or easy. Pandemic isolation was compounded by the disorientation of facing a life she didn't expect to have. Anya coped the only way she knew: A full-time job as a communications coordinator at the University of Minnesota's School of Public Health, back-to-back night shifts at Fogo de Chao downtown, and side gigs with Rotary and local theaters. The pace felt manic at times. But she also found ways to re-connect with close Nova friends — Hannah, Caroline, Liam, Ruby. 

It seemed like things were finally settling down. 

Then, inexplicably, a new tragedy: Hit by a speeding car while crossing Hennepin Avenue on foot, Anya was thrown nearly 40 feet. She was not responsive for days and on a ventilator for almost three weeks. Although the doctors at HCMC expertly repaired her many orthopedic fractures, a traumatic brain injury stole much of what made Anya Anya. Still, she persevered — regaining her driver's license and getting her own apartment for a time. But all the pieces didn't quite fit together. Her short-term memory, social skills, and judgment were vastly diminished. She adapted as best she could — again — using her Spanish language skills to volunteer at food shelves, taking theater production photos, creating community at the JCC in St. Paul. 

Unfortunately, even that period of stability was to disappear into another round of cancer progression — requiring aggressive treatments, including intra-arterial chemo to her spine and brain, and radiation. She also survived two shunt failures and a final, inconclusive, spine biopsy in December 2023. 

In her last months, the harshness of the advancing cancer softened Anya's edges. She was a remarkable patient, never complaining, always accepting the indignities that cancer brought — headaches, problems walking, difficulty eating, so much vomiting. Despite those challenges, Anya found enjoyment where she could, playing daily word games with Jeff, card games with Colleen, having movie nights at home with Talia. She thanked people over and over again, telling them "I love you" countless times. Anya was able to forge a loving relationship with Miguel, which brought her much companionship and joy. But in her final weeks, when asked about almost anything, she'd simply say: "It's hard." And it was. 

While in Rochester for radiation to her spine at the Mayo Clinic, Anya experienced uncontrollable seizures July 9, 2025. After a short time at Mayo, she came home on hospice care. Surrounded by those who loved her so, she died peacefully July 19, 2025. 

Anya Kelly Magnuson was born March 17, 1998, in Miami, Florida. She is survived by her parents, Jeffrey D. Magnuson and Colleen G. Kelly; sister Talia; grandma JoAnn Magnuson; grandpa Tom Kelly; aunts & uncles Kerry (Ross), Kaky (Steve), Kirsten (Jon); Tom (Chris); Jodi (Bill); cousins Casey (Sean), Kane (Julia), Kallen, Bailey, Calvin, Eleanor, Liam, Collin; and partner Miguel Lopez. Anya was pre-deceased by grandpa Dennis "Buzz" Magnuson and grandma Gail S. Kelly. 

Memorial service will be at 9:30 am Saturday at Lakewood Cemetery Chapel and Garden Mausoleum, Minneapolis. Video of service is available online at https://vimeo.com/event/5273493. Reception follows from 12-4 p.m. at Diamond Lake Lutheran Church. Private burial later at Lakewood Cemetery. In lieu of flowers, the family encourages donations in her name to the Erdheim-Chester Disease Global Alliance (https://www.erdheim-chester.org/ways-to-donate/).