Celebrating the life of Mary Cecilia Conrow
June 4, 1928 - July 9, 2024
Celebrating Mary
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Remembrances
Feeling safe
Feeling safe
Feeling safe
Mommy!!! What comfort I found in my mother. This was my First Communion day, 1961, and it so happens I was coming down with measles (sorry classmates!) so I was feeling pretty awful.
I remember the pure joy and relief of wrapping my arms around my mother, who always made me feel loved. Oh, and she just happened to be the most beautiful woman in the world. I mean look at that smile and that gorgeous ponytail!
Feeling safe
Feeling safe
I was a very lucky teenager. Our house was the central meeting place for my friend group, and that was largely because of how open and welcoming Mom and Dad were. My friends cherished them.
Okay, I admit I didn't always understand my friends' affection for my parents when I was 17. But it didn't take me too much longer to realize how special they were.
-- Terry
Christmas decorations!
First, the tinsel on the tree carefully added. My mom, so beautiful, with such a gracious smile for the special, probably Cornet's, Christmas gift.
And look at my curls! Mom wrapped them in the evening and brushed them around her finger in the morning. On Christmas morning, we all went to the earliest Mass, beautifully dressed.
When we returned home, Dad would run into the house, turn on the Christmas lights and sweep the sheets off the presents. Then, in we'd come, eyes sparkling with delight.
So much love and magic for us. -- Marty
Grandma and grandpa
Growing up, we had the fortune of living close to grandma and grandpa, which meant getting to see them for Sunday dinners or quick stops to say ‘hi’ on their way back from lunch at the Monrovian, a family-style restaurant in the heart of downtown Monrovia.
On the rare occasion, I’d get to join them. Whenever I did, I felt lucky. They always took an interest in what I was up to, and I was always happy to oblige. Often, the conversations turned to the theater, where they took an active role in supporting and encouraging my interest. When the theater company with which I worked lost their lease, grandma and grandpa’s generosity helped open the Duarte Center Theater, likely knowing full-well the investment was going to be a loss.
Grandma and grandpa made every effort to be part of our lives. Beyond the regular dinners, my siblings and I got to visit grandma’s classroom during open houses. This is when I knew she was special. Lined along the walls of her classroom were different tanks and cages. These were the houses of the snakes, salamanders, chinchillas, hamsters, and myriad of other animals that she used to connect with her students. She did the same for me.
I love you grandma.
— Michael
No answer
No answer
No answer
Mary taught me to read. We sat close on the couch in the house on Ardendale, started with alphabet books, nursery rhymes, Dick and Jane, and got up to Tom Sawyer. The book's opening jolted me ("Tom!" No answer. "Tom!" No answer.) She softened it, explaining we were jumping right into the story.
She lay on the floor making a banner that said "All for Thee" for my room, decorating her neat crayon letters with detailed drawings of flowers. She cried later when she found me adding some not so great flowers.
She taught kindergarten briefly before marrying my dad, moved to Chicago when the Navy sent him there, and came back to Temple City pregnant with me when the Navy sent him to Korea. We lived with her parents.
The picture is us in the Keber front yard on Cloverly across from the old Shopping Bag grocery store. She was just a girl a few years removed from walking the Hollywood Hills alone with her dog Ginger.
She cried as a child when a bad boy dropped rocks on her pet turtles and as a new mother over what some might call little things -- the All for Thee banner, me chopping off my baby sister's bangs -- but later she stopped crying or said so. Enduring hard griefs, she said she did not, would not, or could not cry.
No answer
No answer
The last time I saw her she was in a wheelchair wearing a chef's hat from afternoon memory care activities, at a table getting ready for lunch. I said I had to go, kissed her. She said, "oh, no" and I said "see you soon, Mom." -- Tom
Bonnie
Bonnie
Bonnie
Bonnie
Bonnie
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