Colleen Casey
Age 92
Star Prairie, Wisconsin
Colleen Mary Ann Casey (nee Rice) considered herself lucky. Born September 23, 1928, she survived a number of things that could have done her in: a premature birth, whooping cough, scarlet fever, birthing five children, an undiagnosed lung disorder in her 50s, and cancer and the loss of her husband in her 80s. A malfunctioning heart valve ended her streak.
Colleen grew up in Saint Paul, Minnesota, and received a full dose of Catholic education, attending Saint Mark’s and Saint Luke’s grade schools, Saint Joseph Academy, and the College of Saint Catherine. She also received a degree in dietetics from the University of Oregon Medical School.
In 1952, she married Paul Mark Casey and moved to a farm just south of New Richmond, Wisconsin, and had five children. When the children were still small, Colleen took a job as dietitian and head of the nutrition department at Holy Family Hospital. She worked there 26 ½ years.
Colleen was more a listener than a talker, unless you asked about one of her favorite topics, including: plants; animals; cooking; growing up in St Paul; or her beloved aunts Eddie, Vi, Lollie, and Honey Bea, who wore red lipstick and nail polish and enjoyed Pink Squirrels and Highballs.
Colleen was fond of things that came to her unbidden. While most gardeners would weed out or trample volunteer hostas or tomatoes sprouting in the middle of the path, Colleen would dig them with a soupspoon and transplant them into the bed “because they should have a chance.” She fed stray cats and dogs, and, if they were very, very lucky, let them move in. Colleen’s son Ed once said, “If there is such a thing as reincarnation, I want to come back as one of Mom’s cats.”
Colleen didn’t offer much advice, but what she offered was sound: If you wake feeling crummy, get up and get dressed—you’ll feel better. If you’re feeling blue, eat a banana—your potassium level is probably low. If you are growing tomato seedlings on the windowsill, give them a little flick with the back of your hand each time you walk by—it makes the stems sturdier. If a squirrel or bat gets in the house, don’t kill it; open the door—it just wants to get out. Keep your St. Christopher medal in your wallet or purse, so you always have it with you.
Colleen loved card games and taught all her grandkids to play. She claimed she did it because it was a good way to learn to count, but we expect she did it so she would have more potential partners. If you visited her and she knew you played, she’d deal you a hand without even asking if you were interested—and then she’d beat you and say with delight, “Oh, I’m just lucky.” But, really, it was those of us who knew her best who were the lucky ones.
She is survived by: children: Paul (Sheryl), Ed (Mary), Tim (Martha Sanford), Mary Anne (Richard Krueger), and Ted (Kristi); 15 grandchildren; 22 great-grandchildren; sister, Marguerite (John) Blake; and her companion, Kitty Casey, “Best cat in the house.” (Only cat in the house.)
Private Mass and burial.