Margaret M. Conway

31 March 1910 – 1 April 2012

God does not germinate in sad souls;

He wants a heart that is free and happy.

~ Saint Mary Magdalen de' Pazzi

The year Margaret Conway was born, Howard Taft was president, the average salary was $750 a year, life expectancy for women was 51, and the United States boasted 1,000 miles of paved roads. There were no Oreo cookies, no refrigerators, and no world wars. A pound of sugar was .05 cents, and Halley's Comet flew so close by that the earth passed through its tail.

Margaret Mary Magdalene Conway's formidable feminine character was prophetically evident on her birth certificate then gradually crafted by the rock solid farm family upbringing she received from her cherished parents James and Mamie Olson in Kendall, Wisconsin.

Her life on the farm was peopled with colorful aunts, uncles, cousins, neighbors, and extra hands. She fell in love with nature by being outside in it. She spent her childhood with dairy cows, horses, dogs and cats, birds, flowers, trees, gardens, brooks, fields, crops; and in the pulsing midst of it embraced the value of hard work that came with its tending. She rode a horse to school, kindled the fires, washed the dishes, served the farm hands, harvested the corn, wore homemade clothes, and when there was no cloth made a dress out of crepe paper for her little sister Gertie. One Christmas, she was given a single orange. She was in awe; it hadn't come out of her father's field. Her childhood seemed magical in her telling of it. She spoke of it vividly with profound appreciation.

Her bright trajectory eventually took her around the world on the arm of her intrepid husband, Robert M. Conway, but her homes in Wisconsin and Minnesota were her true north. She emerged from her humble beginnings into the brighter spotlight of beloved wife and mother. The house sang with her spirit, presence and love. At Lake Holcombe, Wisconsin, especially, she spent leisurely time with her flowers, hummingbirds, and garden, but on any ground, she emanated those genuine Midwestern customs and mores that made everyone fall in love with her.

Margaret could turn on some humor now with those twinkling blue eyes, and her mouth pursed in that way she had. She faced repetitive household chores with cheer, was rarely ill, never napped, made the best gravy in the tri-state area, got her ears pierced at 71, and dug down deep to fashion a new self assurance after her husband died in 1980. No one left the house, got off the phone, or parted from her without hearing the litany of "I love you, I love you, I love you." She was kind. She gravitated towards others who were too.

At challenging times, Margaret adopted the motto of the British during the war – "Keep Calm And Carry On." When her son, husband, grandchild, brothers and sister died, she did so. The one thing that frightened her was the black cloud overhead gathering wind that signaled the coming crack and bang of a bad storm. Storms frightened her full stop. Storms and the idea of her husband going water skiing.

Margaret loved school, and her teachers. She absorbed all she possibly could from her eighth grade education. She was loaded with common sense and practicality, the twin tools essential to sustain a chaotic household of seven rambunctious children. She was the consummate mother who was never absent from the house when a child returned from school. She was a chef whose kitchen was always open; a hostess and hotelier; a teacher, nurse, and manager; she set a table fit for royalty and was not content until everyone had seconds; she insisted on manners. You could say she was the CEO of Conway Homeland Security.

Margaret Conway had beautiful handwriting.

She could be stubborn, yet she knew how to give way.

She was tough and strong, then soft and timid.

She had the constitution of a plant in rich, black soil.

She had a positive outlook that was enviable.

She came with an innate belief in God.

Her lap was often strewn with holy cards, rosaries, and The Daily Word .

If you wanted to give her a gift that she wouldn't give away to someone else,

it would be a bottle of holy water from Lourdes, blessed by the Pope.

She believed in Saint Christopher whether the Church did or not.

Margaret lived the simple life that the Quakers recommend living.

She grew a quiet wisdom within herself which imbued her seven children, 22 grandchildren and 30 great grandchildren. Each of them embodies her spirit.

Margaret Conway was not a sad soul. She had a heart that was free and happy, so God germinated, and bloomed, and set up house there. And so did we.

Pat and Fanchon Conway of Bloomington, Minnesota; Monnie and Chuck Eichten of Clayton, California; Kay and Jim Liegl of Tucson, Arizona; Mary Conway of Scottsdale, Arizona; Bob and Ricki Conway of London, England; Suzy Conway of Corvallis, Oregon; and Mike Conway of Westcliffe, Colorado, are left behind. Gertrude Cunningham, age 92, is Margaret's remaining and much beloved sibling, who still resides in Rochester.  She is the Conway children's second mother.

Funeral Mass will be held at St. John the Evangelist Catholic Church in Rochester, Minnesota, officiated by Rev. Paul Nelson, on April 4, 2012 at 10:30 a.m.  Friends may call one-half hour prior to the service at the church on Wednesday.  Burial will be in Calvary Cemetery.

Margaret wishes memorials to go to the Lourdes High School Building Fund. C/O Ms. Terri Burkel, Rochester Catholic Schools, 1710 Industrial Drive, NW. Rochester, Minnesota, 55901.

Online condolences are welcome at www.mackenfuneralhome.com