In Loving Memory...

Sister Margo Cain, CSC
(Sister Mary Joseph Agnes)
Birth: January 5, 1933
Profession: February 2, 1959
Death: April 12, 2006

Easter came early for Margo and for us this year. And as we sat and talked during these last two treasured weeks and recalled earlier times when Margo was less vulnerable, we knew that God was not far from us. The stories we told were rich in memory and dreams, rich in revelation and in grace.

Margo was a lover of life and gave generously of her talents, her intellect, her humor, her energy and her passion. Margo was a manager – beyond the extraordinary – and as a result of this the world is somewhat more intact today. With these skills, Margo brought people together to listen and to talk to one other. She trusted that ideas would be created in that space. Through her encouragement and willing spirit a new program would be initiated, a new way of doing things would happen. She opened many doors for people.

Margo’s belief in the value of coming together, her hope and her passion are expressed in this poetic verse used by the Papago Indians. Coming together for these Indians was a matter of life and death because through their belief they could bring down the rain.

COME TOGETHER
You shall see this thing which we have always done
And what must truly happen.
Because we have planned it thus and thus have done.
Right soon, indeed, it will happen.
It will rain.
The fields will be watered.
Therein we shall drop the seed.
Seed which bears corn of all colors; 
Seed which grows big
Thus we shall do.
Thereby we shall feed ourselves;
Thereby our stomachs shall grow big;
Thereby we shall live.
The people begin to sing:
Now here we have assembled;
Now thus we shall do!
With our singing we shall pull down the rain.

And sure enough within a few days, the drenching rains descended. And this was Margo’s belief: “Come together and …thus we shall do….” Margo became more of a gentle spirit as she became more vulnerable, and at the same time her prayer became more powerful. She prayed with all her might… During this time Margo learned that she could turn over her “management” to a greater manager. And she began to enter more into her “deep heart.” Margo found that when the waves seemed as if they were getting higher and coming into the boat, she would keep her eyes intensely on Christ, knowing that she would immediately be at land. This orientation of her spirit kept her above water and enabled her to hold storm and ground together. Margo’s prayer made her sometimes-heavy heart light, her poor heart rich, and her sick heart well, and urged her to do good works.

On Palm Sunday, Margo was out of the hospital, at a skilled nursing facility, St. Joseph’s Villa. Mary Ann and I decided to attend Mass there and phoned Margo to see if she was up to going. She said, “Yes,” and a wheelchair and portable oxygen tank were ready as was Margo, in a plaid shirt and green cords. As the three of us sat through the readings the awesome reality facing Margo inserted itself. Jesus and Margo were facing imminent death. Jesus knew he was going to die, and we knew, with Margo too, that she would not be drinking of the fruit of the vine until she was with God. All of our lives we are invited participants with Jesus gathering us into his suffering, his death and his Passover. This now became so immediate. Later in the day, we talked about hearing those words together. Margo, skipping ahead to the good part, recalled Mary Ellen O’Brien’s “Emmaus Walks” the week after Easter, where the sisters took time to recreate the joy of Jesus again walking and teaching his friends. Margo described herself on that road. She described how the many expressions of love and testimony to the value of her ministry which she had received in cards, calls and visits, supported and held her up for her last walk, a walk in which Jesus would truly reveal himself to her as the Scriptures foretold.

Some wrote: 

“Dear Sister Margo, I am deeply saddened and dismayed to hear of your recent illness. I want to let you know how important your friendship, love and prayers have been to me and my family. Your inner strength, wisdom, and humor helped us through some trying times…words cannot express the positive impact you have had on my life…you always made me feel at ease, and treated me as a friend.”

“Dear Sister Margo, My heart is broken from the news of your illness. Growing up in the shadows of Holy Cross Hospital had a great impression on me. More important is the impression you had on me that is deep. I admit I feared you at first, more from the title of ‘nun’ than anything else. You were dad’s boss and back in those days, a woman, let alone a nun, directing a man – that didn’t happen very often. You were a fair and compassionate person in that role. I learned that treating people with dignity and respect was the right way to go no matter what role you are in. You helped us through our mother’s death. I still have the prayer you said that day and look at it often – so many of the thoughts in that prayer I wish for you and your journey.”

“Dear Sister Margo, I hear tell that you will soon be departing the Park City area on a great journey. I also understand that you may not again have occasion to return here. That saddens me deeply. Your kindness and gentle soul have touched me. When I first met you, I quickly felt that I had known you for years, feeling comfortable with you and unconditionally accepted by you immediately. Your nonjudgmental nature made me feel as if in some ways we were kindred spirits. You probably don’t realize that just being around you made me want to be a better me. What a great gift.”

This heartfelt affirmation meant so much to Margo and gave her so much desire to walk the road to her dying, that together we imagined these persons appearing along the sides of the road, accompanying Margo and waving her on – “it is to God, to God I go….”

When Margo had occasion to fly West soon after the death of her colleague and dear friend Dave Trew, the plane kept up with the setting sun – a startling beautiful sunset that was visible for hours. The experience gave her solace and peace in her loss and the sense that Dave was at peace. A friend later gave her a picture of the sunset, and one of her many good friends from Spokane days framed it for Margo. It was this picture that went on the hospital wall once she was diagnosed; it then went to the Villa and on Wednesday when Margo came home, Margo instructed us, in the middle of room arrangements, medication instructions, oxygen set up and taking of vital signs, that the sunset picture be hung in her direct line of vision. Included was a general instruction for the picture hangers about the importance of pictures being not too high, not too low, that eye level was the best. When Margo suddenly that night was just no longer there, we firmly believe her faith drew her into those clouds, and lifted her out of a body that no longer worked, into peace, light, and the warm embrace of all she had supported, prayed for and loved.

Margo – we love you. We are glad you made your journey well, and we will see you again.

Written by Sister Mary Ann Pajakowski, CSC, and Sister Suzanne Brennan, CSC

Memorial contributions may be made to the Sisters of the Holy Cross Ministry With the Poor Fund, Saint Mary’s, Notre Dame, Indiana 46556.