Margaret Carol Squires

Margaret Carol Squires, 62, passed away Friday, October 1, 2021, due to complications caused by pancreatic cancer.

Margaret was an extraordinary woman who filled any room she entered with joyous energy and a warm friendly smile. Just ask anyone who knew her.

As a young child, Margaret and her family moved to Hughson, California., a rural Central Valley community,  where she learned to ride horses and explore the intricacies of raising peaches and figs on her family's small farm.

Margaret was born in Oakland and was a dedicated follower of the Raiders Football Team and the San Francisco Giants baseball team.

Margaret loved music of all kinds and loved bringing it to students, whether they were 8 years old or 80. During her years in Idaho Falls, she worked at both Piano Gallery and Chesbro Music. She also performed with the Idaho Falls Symphony on occasion, as well as a number of smaller community musical groups, including the Jazz House Big Band and Firth Community Orchestra.

Margaret is survived by her husband, Michael Mooney, her brother, Martin Squires, sister-in-law, Linda Squires and two nieces and one nephew.

It is difficult to believe her hearty laugh, warm and welcoming smile, and wicked sense of humor won't be heard and enjoyed again -- at least on this Earth.

Our house is so empty this morning. Knowing our last great adventure together is at an end is almost more than I can bear. The cats are quiet. At first, during the late night and early morning hours after Margaret left us, they seemed confused. They visited every room, searching for something -- for the woman who treated them with such kindness. Who spoiled them, to be honest, and me as well. When they returned downstairs, heads held up high and their noses twitching furiously -- Margaret's familiar scent remained abundant yet she was nowhere to be found. A puzzlement to be sure and.perhaps beyond their comprehension. Odan sat across the room, looking at me. He cried then walked toward Margaret's odd bed. Even though she no longer was there -- covered in comforting blankets -- he leaped a top the barren mattress and settled in the best he could. He would just wait. After all, no matter how long she was gone before, she always returned -- greeting him with kind and reassuring and loving words and warm scratching behind his ears. "Come here, Love Lumps ... Momma's home." Max sat by by my feet, looking up at me with such confusion -- punctuated by a plaintiff little bleat that seemed much too soft and little for his rotund body. Earlier in the week, Margaret told me, there was a breakthrough with Max's adopted sister, Cissy. Cissy who had been abandoned to the streets of Modesto at a very young age, still doesn't seem what to know what to make of humans. She spends most of her time under the bed in our Green Room when visitors arrive. Cissy also can be standoff-ish with me ... and even Margaret. Not on this night. Margaret told me Cissy jumped up on the Hospice bed. She held her ground for a moment or two before cautiously making her way to Margaret. Margaret said she wasted no time. She began scratching Cissy's dainty black ears. Margaret's soft words and reassuring manner soon won over the recalcitrant cat. Cissy even pushed her head into Margaret's magic fingers. Margaret couldn't stop smiling as she told me the story, even as the deep creases of cancer etched her road-weary face. It was one of our last moments of pure shared joy. Our house is so very empty this morning -- stacks and boxes of unrealized dreams and new adventures every which way I turn. In her brief week home, Margaret and I were able to relindle the intimacy in our relationship. Nothing is more intimate between a husband and wife than their conversations -- honest and unfiltered. No interruptions for endless blood draws and pain drugs administered through her port; thermometers dragged across her forehead or gently slipped under her tongue; changing her many wound dressings or draining fluids from her lung cavities. The constant beeping and bleating of the ever-present vital signs monitors. Just Margaret and me and the love we shared for and with each other.

The house is so quiet this morning. Empty. Cold. I keep turning up the wall heater. No great big welcome-to-the-day laugh. No "Mooney where are you?'" No good-natured demands for "Milk Duds" or "Jolly Ranchers" or "Lifesaver Gummies. I find only loneliness and a suffocating sense of loss. We had so much more to do and experience together. So many more discoveries to make and bandstands and kisses to share and roads to travel.

In lieu of flowers, the family suggests making donations to the Pancreatic Cancer Action Network and the American Cancer Society.

A celebration of life will be held at a later date.

Condolences can be sent to the family at www.woodfuneralhome.com.