Every boy fears the time that he loses his mother, and I have dreaded the events of today my whole life.
The funny thing is that I am not sad. I am actually overjoyed. How can that be? Read on.
I never really dreaded when Steven left on his mission. I worked for that moment my entire adult life. It was the fulfillment of all my hopes and dreams really. But in another acute, painful way, I knew that I would never really have him home again the way it was back then. After his mission, he would return, start school, get married, and so I knew that I was saying goodbye to his youth and childhood. Yes that was a hard in a strange sort of way, but I wouldn’t have changed it for the world.
Of course, when you send your son or daughter on a mission, it is sad—sort of—because you will be separated for a time, and you will so miss him or her for a number of months. That's the way it is with my mother.
Marjorie Lenore Curtis Stucki, age 90, died Wednesday, October 23, 2019 in Orem, Utah. She was with family at the time. Margie passed away peacefully in her sleep.
Family has always been of utmost important to Margie.
Born at the beginning of the depression on 27 April 1929 in Salt Lake City, Utah, Margie courageously faced many challenges through her life. Her father worked for Utah Power & Light at the time. She later wrote that she always thought her father was a really handsome man. He was fun and loved outdoor activities like hunting, fishing, and sports. He played baseball for the companies where he worked. She loved to go to Waterloo Park when he played ball. Sometimes they watched Shakespearean plays in an outdoor theater, and she really liked that too. She wrote. “Dad had a good voice and often sang in quartets.” Naturally my mom loved all these things and made them part of her own family’s life as well. Her mother suffered from arthritis at a young age, so Margie had to step up her game and contribute to the family at an early age.
The skills she learned then proved valuable to her current family as she would tackle challenges head on and successfully overcome them. She built a home, businesses, and a farm and made them more than successful; they were enviable. She was the head instigator and made life fun, initiated outings, managed shops and successfully decorated homes and lives.
Margie is survived by her son Brent (Nancy), daughter Leslie Glover, daughter Robyn Officer (Guy, deceased), son Randall (Penny), son Gregg (Terri), son Mathew (Linda), son Jeff, and daughter Kimberly Robison (Aaron). She prefers going by the name Margie but is also known as Granny to her posterity of 101 e.g. 8 children, 41 grandchildren, and 52 great grandchildren. Yes. She lovingly responds to the name Granny to her dozens of adoring descendants. She was preceded in death by her husband, Richard.
She never sought the spotlight but lingered in the background and allowed others the attention, but Margie made everything we do even better. Castle Valley was one of the choice experiences of our family because of my mom. A day working in the fields became a sweet memory because of her. She would make a pitcher of fresh lemonade and bring homemade chocolate chip cookies to our rescue. Working for and with her was a pleasure. She made a trip to the mountain to cut down a Christmas tree a lifelong memory—we threw sleds and SnoFlings in the back of the truck and took a pot of hot soup and a basket of homemade rolls with us. And now a relatively simple task has become one of the best memories of my life because of mom. Surrounded by family, Margie slipped from this life into the arms of her friends and family who preceded her in death. After more than 56 years, she has been reunited with her sweetheart Richard. They spent many happy years together and are now finally back with each other after 11 long years separation. Certainly their reunion was sweet.
Margie and Richard spent many years working in the temple together and later served a mission for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in Winnsboro, Louisiana during 2001-2003. But I am getting way ahead of myself. Margie and Richard raised their budding family for 23 years in Salt Lake City, Utah, where they made lifelong friendships. She worked hard to make things fun, worthwhile, and memorable. Our experiences as children are numerous with memories of Mom.
Mother gave everything for her family and when she felt that it was time for a different life for her children, she picked up her family and moved 300 miles south to start a homestead in the undeveloped lands of southern Utah in a little place called Castle Valley.
Her claims were almost unbelievable. She said this was the perfect place for us, just what we have been searching for our entire lives: green, beautiful, peaceful, and remote.
All the things we worked for in this little homestead transpired in a big way. The lessons we learned there everyday improve our lives today and the memories comfort and build us in our struggles today. The claims were all realized as we followed her lead.
Now, I’m not too proud to say that although I wanted to believe in this Promised Land about which Mother had spoken so highly, I had only seen desert, dirt, and cactus for the last 150 miles of our trip there. My faith in a beautiful green valley was waning just a bit, but when we turned on to the Colorado River road for the last leg of our journey, I noticed the terrain indeed did change–from red sand to red rock! Our doubts soon turned into comments like “This is it? You brought us all this way down here to see these rocks. I thought you said there was green!” but Mother’s excitement only increased, “Wait, just wait. We’re almost there.”
She encouraged and planned, then beautified our small piece of the desert. This little bit of heaven turned out to be just what Mom said it would, because she made sure of it.
Despite ill health she pressed forward with determination. Arthritis ravaged her body and stole her health. This insidious disease tried to take her determination and dampen her enthusiasm, but it was all vain. Still she persisted faithfully with her family to the very end.