Amanda Leigh Evans

On the morning of September 30th, 2023, Amanda Leigh Evans, née Mahan, passed away at Hospice Austin’s Christopher House after a very long and courageous fight against triple negative breast cancer. She was 50 years old.

Amanda was born in Marshall, TX to Eddie and Letitia (Burkhardt) Mahan on March 6th, 1973. Growing up in small town Burleson, Texas, Mandy (as she was known then) was envied for her effortlessly cool style and naturally straight, golden hair in an era of frizzy perms.

She adored all animals but particularly cats. Tabitha was her most treasured feline companion, and her first child was a calico named Sheika. A tortie named Pixie was her smartest cat, while Puck is her dumbest (but sweetest). As a teenager she dreamed of traveling and photographing wildlife for National Geographic.

From a young age she exhibited extraordinary willfulness, dubbed the most stubborn person her grandfather, a veteran of World War II in France, had ever met. And he was right—she was opinionated and original, never heeding the social status quo or obeying the sensibilities of a conservative upbringing. She expanded the horizons of her perspective by working for Vail Resort in Colorado, where she struggled through the snow and brushed shoulders with the rich and famous, studying biology and medicine in the respiratory therapy program at Texas State University, and moving to Washington, D.C., where she attended office parties at the Pentagon and taught her first baby history using the museums and monuments of the city as a classroom.

In 2008, a few years following a move to Round Rock and the birth of her second child, she proudly campaigned for Barack Obama’s historic first presidential race. She was active in her children’s academic and social lives, volunteering at school often when we were younger, and after the birth of her third and fourth children joined Austin Parents of Multiples, a club for parents of twins. Through all these experiences she developed her own personal beliefs in politics and religion from which she could never be swayed. Her rebelliousness was showcased in her favorite piece of advice: “It’s better to ask forgiveness than permission.” This proverb has been drilled into both her children and all their friends, though they’ve managed to stay out of trouble so far—also due to her parenting and strong sense of justice.

Her passions were many. She loved fields of wildflowers, whether in the hill country or Rocky mountains, and toiled often in her garden, striving for lush beauty even under the relentless Texas sun. Her succulents propagated and covered the outdoor furniture with plant babies in cradle-like mini plastic planters, waiting for permanent homes. She loved the outrageous squirrels who visited the yard to eat our birdseed and chatter angrily at our cats, and she loved to make all us kids pick up the acorns that they didn’t eat, engorged as they were on birdseed and corn, in plastic grocery bags.

Inside, she was Wheel of Fortune fanatic and avid viewer of Big Brother. If given the chance to play on the former, she could’ve won a million dollars. She enjoyed historical dramas from all eras, and her favorites followed bloodthirsty vikings and the British royal family. She discovered a love of college football in the University of Texas Longhorns. Despite the team consistently sucking for years, Amanda rooted for and defended the Longhorns until they finally beat Alabama only a few weeks before her passing. In her hospital room, she made sure to tune in to watch UT crush Baylor. Above all, true crime was her favorite genre of television: she followed several ongoing cases with the passion of a criminal investigator, reviewing new evidence every week.

Amanda survives in her children: Arden Grace, a writer and naturalist; Calder Elijah-Quinn, an award-winning photographer and aspiring businessman who plans to study at his mother’s alma mater; Olivia Adair, a cheerleader; and Eva Wren, the chief yearbook photographer for her middle school. She taught them how to seek knowledge and form their own opinions. She gifted us with the stubbornness to brush off unwanted solicitors and look inward for truth. She nurtured a creativity which we cannot help but wield naturally, even when we’d rather be boring businessmen. None of us are as cool as our mother yet, but we’re trying our best.

She is also survived by her husband, Jason Evans; parents Eddie and Letitia Mahan; brother and sister-in-law Jesse and Virginia Mahan; brother Matthew Mahan; grandmother Christine (McSwain) Mahan; cats Puck and Bob; and several uncles, aunts and cousins.

The word obituary comes from the Latin meaning setting, as if describing the evening sun. And in a way, our mom’s passing is a sunset on a young life. But she much preferred the sunrise. Amanda was a natural night owl and could not sleep without first watching her 12:30am episode of Friends, but on family trips to the beach she relished in waking earlier than everyone else to watch the sun rise over the Gulf and in her final weeks dreamed of seeing many more sunrises. Look for her in vibrant red clouds, golden light sparkling on the water, and flowers waving gently in the wind. Think of her when you pet a soft cat, feed birdseed to squirrels, or watch a wild rabbit nibble in your garden.

On a necklace she purchased at the Smithsonian Museum is written a quote from Dante, which translates to: After the dream, the impression of passion remains. This quote is about a vision of Heaven, which our mother surely was. Amanda’s time on Earth may have passed, but her life continues on in the passion of her children and all those on whom she impressed.

A public service will be held for Amanda at 3:00 pm on Tuesday, October 10th at First United Methodist in Round Rock, 1004 N Mays St.