Mpls, Minnesota - Phyllis Warner, age 73, of Minneapolis, MN, died March 2, 2026 after a brave battle with brain cancer. Phyllis was born on October 31, 1952 in Chicago, Illinois. She is survived by her daughter, Melissa (Jody) Gilbertson, grandchildren Jordan (Alexandra) and Haley (Matthew), her five brothers and many cherished nieces, nephews, international research students, and dear friends.

Phyllis lived large. She was fearless, generous, curious, and endlessly adventurous—a woman who never let the grass grow under her feet and never let the people she loved feel alone. To know Phyllis was to feel welcomed and included. She had a rare gift for making friends wherever she went and for turning ordinary moments into lasting memories.

Phyllis loved movement and exploration—biking, canoeing, skiing, hiking, kayaking, and traveling near and far. From Monday night bike rides that always ended with good beer and food, to paddling the Boundary Waters, biking the Danube River, and unforgettable trips all over the world, she embraced adventure with confidence and joy. Even when plans went awry—like a "nice, calm" kayaking trip that turned into a storm in the Dells with her grandchildren, or a harrowing drive down an unmarked road to Hovenweep National Monument—Phyllis met the moment with calm resolve and humor. She did not panic; she paddled, waited it out, figured it out, and carried on.

Her home was always full of life. Phyllis's house was party central - barbecues in every season, legendary holiday gatherings, concerts, friends, neighbors, family, dogs, laughter, and conversation filling every corner. Her menus were never ordinary, and she fed people the way she loved them—generously and without keeping score.

She was a natural mentor and leader, admired for her professionalism, tenacity, and integrity over her 30-year career in Health Information Management and Technology with Fairview Hospitals. Phyllis helped open doors for others, including helping friends land their first jobs, guiding careers, and modeling what it meant to work hard while remaining human and kind. She did not suffer fools or injustice, but she forgave easily and kept her heart open. Her strength was quiet but unmistakable.

She loved her family fiercely and delighted in her role as Nana, especially when it involved introducing her grandchildren to adventure. A cabin trip with four kids, two grandmas, squirt-gun fights on inflatables, late-night laughter, and even a life jacket worn during skinny dipping became the stuff of family legend. She believed the best memories were made just outside of one's comfort zone and she was usually right.

Her friendships spanned decades. From college days at the College of St. Scholastica, where her open smile and breezy confidence made lifelong bonds, to professional circles, neighborhood gatherings, ski trips, volunteer work and hosting several international research students from Spain and Brazil. Phyllis collected people and kept them close.

Phyllis was unapologetically fun. She loved outdoor concerts, happy hours, girls' trips, spontaneous laughter, a good hoppy beer, and shared jokes that lasted for years. She once talked a friend out of getting a tattoo under questionable conditions, patiently waited at the bottom of ski hills for those less brave, and insisted on Christmas crackers and the dice game for presents. She was content listening to her daughter read aloud by flashlight at the end of a long day of paddling in the Boundary Waters or sitting on the beach with a beer at sunset while others shopped for jewelry—always choosing connection and joy.

To have loved Phyllis is to carry a lifetime of stories—of laughter, travel, shared work, quiet support, and unforgettable adventures. She made people feel safe, seen, and brave enough to say yes. Though her absence leaves an enormous space, her spirit lives on in every road taken, every paddle dipped into the water, every gathering around a table, and every friend who learned how to live a little bigger because of her.

Thank you to the amazing doctors and caregivers at the Givens Brain Tumor Center; Our Lady of Peace Hospice, particularly Nurse Terri; Visiting Angels Home Health Aides and all the staff and residents from the Pillars of Prospect Park. Her time with all of you was brief but you allowed Phyllis to live the last two years of her life with dignity and grace.

There will never be another quite like Phyllis. Even after her death, she chose to support lifelong learning by donating her body to the University of Minnesota's Anatomy Bequest Research Program. In lieu of a memorial service, she requested friends and family to celebrate her memory with a toast, more adventure and joy.