In Loving Memory of Kevin Wilson

Last Thursday, just ten days before his birthday, Kevin Wilson passed away suddenly in his sleep. It still does not feel real. His birthday card is sitting on my shelf, stamped and ready to mail. I keep thinking that the next time I walk into the office, he will be there. Typing. Focused. Ready to answer a question about a septic system or a complicated contract.

Kevin was one of the owners and the managing broker of our Keller Williams Foothills office. But that title barely scratches the surface of who he was.

When I joined KW in 2019, I felt intimidated. He had a no-nonsense presence. He was direct. Efficient. Grounded. If we did not win a client we were interviewing for, he would simply say, “Next.” When meetings wrapped up, he would remind us, “I am only a phone call, email, or text away.” And when a deal felt like it was unraveling, he would calmly say, “There are no emergencies in real estate.”

Those words shaped me.

At the beginning, I felt like I had to earn the right to walk into his office and ask questions. But the truth is, I did not. He was happy to have us there. He was proud of his office. He genuinely wanted to be of service. He was always available. Always willing to listen. Always steady.

I used to say, “I’m here because of Kevin.” And I meant it.

Over time, our relationship grew into something that felt like a blend of mentor and mentee, with a little father-daughter dynamic mixed in. I ran countless scenarios by him, tested real estate boundaries. What if this happens? What if we do this? I am sure, no, certain I tested his patience also at times. But he always gave me honest feedback. He made me pay attention to the details. He made me stronger.

He was not impressed with my electric truck. He made sure to tell me I would eventually be buying a $40,000 battery. He gave me solid marriage advice when I needed perspective. But most importantly, he helped shape me into the broker I am today.

Because of him, I do not panic when a deal gets messy. I do not spiral when something unexpected happens. I hear his voice. “Next.” I remember, “There are no emergencies in real estate.” He taught me that leadership looks like calm under pressure. It looks like availability but not after 7pm. And it looks like showing up again and again for your people.

His passing has been incredibly hard for so many of us. It feels impossible that someone so steady, so constant, is suddenly gone. My heart breaks for his family. They were close in a way that is rare. So many of them worked alongside him in one of his offices. Real estate was not just his career. It was part of the fabric of their family.

And if there is one more thing this loss has made painfully clear, it is this: you never know when your time is up.

I went back and looked at the last contract he reviewed for me. I needed to see how our final exchange ended. I did tell him thank you. I am grateful for that. But I also know I should have said more. I should have told him more often how much he meant to me. How much his steady presence mattered. How much of my confidence was built in his office, under his leadership.

So let this be the reminder.

Thank the people who guide you. Tell your mentors what they mean to you. Love your family out loud. Say the things you keep meaning to say. Do not assume there will be another meeting, another birthday, another chance.

In so many ways, I still expect to see him when I walk through those doors.

Moving forward, I carry a new commitment. I may have originally stayed at this office because of Kevin. But now I stay because of his legacy. I stay to protect the culture he built. I stay to uphold the standards he set. I stay to lead the way he modeled.

Kevin, I hope you know that I promise to keep making you proud.