Memory, Margee Erickson believed, was the crux of everlasting life.
She kept copious journals of growing up in a well-to-do family that suffered a reversal of fortune, meeting and marrying her husband, raising her children, becoming a belly dancer in her 50s and traveling to exotic beaches all over the world.
The words she penned — and later tapped out on a computer keyboard — were evidence she existed.
She wanted people to know, as she wrote in a journal in 1999, "Hey! This is me, Margee. I lived and I had a life!"
When her own memory began failing a few years ago, the result of Alzheimer's disease, she continued writing to exercise her mind and add a few more chapters to secure her legacy. Her story ended last month when she succumbed to the effects of Alzheimer's, two weeks after her 84th birthday.
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Margee grew up on a 30-acre estate in New Jersey where she rode ponies, swam in the pool, splashed in the lily pond and grotto, poked around in her mother's greenhouse and gardens, and spent hours and hours in the playhouse her father built, complete with electricity.
"By contrast," said one of her three sons, Bruce Erickson, "my father was growing up in New York state dirt-, dirt-poor."
Margee's father was an executive at the Paramount Pictures office in New York. In the early years of the Great Depression, while many were struggling to afford food, Margee's parents were taking cruises. But after her father's sudden death in 1934, when Margee was 10, the family's lifestyle changed abruptly. Though not destitute, Margee's mother was forced to take in boarders to make ends meet, Bruce Erickson said.
In her later writings, Margee recalled, "a lot of our dreams died with my Dad."
Still, said her son, "the remarkable thing was my mother was able to adapt."
Margee met her future husband, Ed "Swede" Erickson, in 1942. They had been dating only a couple of months when Swede was shipped overseas to fight in World War II. Margee waited three years for him to return. They wed in 1946.
The Ericksons had two sons while living back East. In 1953, at a doctor's suggestion, they moved to Arizona in hopes the drier climate would alleviate the bronchial problems of their middle son, Glenn. The couple lived in Phoenix for five years and had their third son, Kirk, before they moved to Tucson.
In the 1950s and '60s, with her sons still living at home, Margee would stretch the family budget by making casseroles from the week's leftovers and by sewing clothing, Glenn Erickson said.
"She was quite resourceful," he said.
Glenn has a photo of himself as a young man, wearing one of the shirts his mother made. In the picture, he is posed in front of curtains made from the identical material.
Bruce Erickson recalls his mother making him a sport coat, which he hated and which his mother expected him to wear to high school.
Margee's careful budgeting paid off. The savings afforded the Ericksons the luxury of traveling extensively. The couple saved photos of themselves soaking up sun on beaches all over the world.
When she wasn't traveling, Margee enjoyed making quilts and researching her family's history. In her 50s, she learned to belly dance and began making her own costumes. She even incorporated some of the scraps of bright, shiny costume fabric into her quilts.
"Having been part of a 1950s couple — we lived in a Beaver Cleaver house — my mother always took the back seat," Bruce Erickson said. Belly dancing was a way for her to cut loose.
She took lessons for nearly 10 years from Kathryn Ferguson, a Tucson instructor of Middle Eastern dance. Occasionally, Margee joined Ferguson and other students in performances at restaurants and festivals.
"I think she just liked to dance, and she was a good dancer," Ferguson said.
Margee possessed all the qualities required for an accomplished dancer, Ferguson said: "being accurate with your movements, being musical and being expressive."
"It was interesting just because she was a quiet personality," Ferguson said. "You just never know."
The 1989 cancer death of their youngest son, Kirk, devastated the fun-loving couple.
"I saw a spark go out of them," Bruce Erickson said. "They went on living, but they were never quite the same."
About 10 years ago, Margee began journaling in earnest, and her husband started writing his memoirs. After her 2004 Alzheimer's diagnosis at the age of 80, Margee sent a letter to her family and friends telling them about what she called her "new adventure."
She wrote: "I've had a good, long, interesting life. . . . I have clear, happy memories of good times from my childhood to the present, great vacations in interesting and exotic places, and wonderful memories of growing up. . . . I can remember things that happened 40 years ago in great detail, but sometimes can't dredge up the correct name of a friend or neighbor that I've known for years. . . . It's scary to see how fast this seems to be happening."
Glenn Erickson said his mother handled the disease with equanimity. Margee delighted in hearing her son tell family stories she'd forgotten.
"My mother had a really, really good life," Bruce Erickson said. "We should all be so lucky."
Life Stories
This feature chronicles the lives of recently deceased Tucsonans. Some were well-known across the community. Others had an impact on a smaller sphere of friends, family and acquaintances. Many of these people led interesting — and sometimes extraordinary — lives with little or no fanfare. Now you'll hear their stories. Past "Life Stories" are online at go.azstarnet.com/lifestories
On StarNet: Find a photo gallery of this Life Story at azstarnet.com/slideshows
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