Remembering Renee Good
Renee Good, a vibrant 37-year-old Minneapolis resident, was mourned by the community on Wednesday, leaving behind a legacy of warmth and connection. Friends and family gathered to celebrate the life of a woman who had touched countless hearts through her genuine compassion and unwavering presence in the lives of those around her. The memorial service, filled with both tears and laughter, reflected the profound impact Renee had made on her community in her nearly four decades of life.
Throughout her years in Minneapolis, Renee had established herself as more than just a resident—she was a cornerstone of her neighborhood, known for her readiness to lend a helping hand and her ability to bring people together. Whether organizing block parties that turned strangers into friends or volunteering at the local food shelf where she greeted everyone by name, Renee embodied the spirit of community that defines the best of Minneapolis. Her colleagues from the marketing firm where she had worked for the past decade spoke of her creative brilliance and her knack for mentoring younger team members, describing how she could turn the most ordinary Monday morning meeting into something people actually looked forward to attending.
Family members shared intimate stories that painted a picture of Renee beyond her public persona—a woman who called her parents every Sunday without fail, who kept a journal of handwritten recipes passed down through generations, and who maintained a tradition of sending handwritten birthday cards to everyone in her extensive circle. Her younger sister recalled how Renee had taught her to ride a bike, apply for her first job, and navigate heartbreak with grace. “She wasn’t just my big sister,” she said through tears, “she was my north star.” Her partner of eight years described their shared dream of opening a small bookstore café, a plan they had been saving for and that had almost reached its fruition, revealing the future dreams cut short by her untimely passing.
The community’s response to Renee’s loss extended far beyond those who knew her personally. Local business owners spoke of her regular presence and support, from the coffee shop where she had “her table” by the window to the independent bookstore where staff had set aside new releases they knew would interest her. Former classmates from her alma mater traveled from across the country to pay their respects, some having maintained friendships with Renee for over twenty years. Even those who had only brief encounters with her—the postal worker on her route, neighbors who had recently moved to the area—felt compelled to attend, testament to her ability to make meaningful connections even in passing moments.
What emerged most clearly from the shared memories was Renee’s authentic approach to life—her refusal to be anything but genuine in a world that often rewards performance over sincerity. Friends recounted how she would show up at their doorsteps with homemade soup during illnesses, how she remembered details about their lives that they themselves had forgotten mentioning, and how she created space for difficult conversations when they were needed most. Her volunteer work with young girls in STEM programs revealed her commitment to lifting others up, particularly those whose voices might otherwise go unheard. “She didn’t just believe in a better world,” her mentor observed, “she actively built it every day through small acts that added up to a remarkable life.”
As the Minneapolis community begins to navigate a future without Renee’s physical presence, many spoke of continuing her legacy through the values she embodied—kindness without expectation, community without exclusion, and love without reservation. A scholarship fund established in her name will support young women pursuing careers in creative fields, while her neighborhood association plans to dedicate a small garden space where her favorite flowers will bloom each spring. “Renee would hate all this fuss,” her best friend said with a knowing smile, “but she would love knowing that we’re still connecting with each other because of her.” In a final tribute that perhaps captured her essence most completely, attendees were each given a small notebook with an inscription of Renee’s often-repeated philosophy: “The most important thing we can offer each other is our authentic presence.” For those who knew and loved Renee Good, her authentic presence was indeed the greatest gift, and one that continues to resonate even in her absence.
