Rose Marie Logsdon

Rose Marie Cunningham Logsdon hung up her stethoscope for the last time on Saturday, April 22, 2017. She was born in Cerro Gordo County, Iowa, on December 31, 1940, the fifth of seven children to Leo and Leona Cunningham. Among the three traditional career possibilities for women in that era – school marm, stewardess, and nurse – she chose the last and made her mark as a tireless servant to patients in need. After earning her R.N. at St. Joseph’s Mercy School of Nursing in Mason City Iowa, her 52 years of professional service were marred by only three days of work missed due to illness. She honed her skills throughout northeast Iowa and cozied up to a music teacher she fancied, eventually making an honest man of him and bearing him twin girls and a son to boot. From 1980 to 2012, she worked in critical care in hospitals in Corpus Christi, Texas, giving care to suffering patients, support to anxious families, and insight to clueless physicians.

Her beloved husband of 53 years, Sammy Lynn Logsdon, has begrudgingly accepted her crossing the eternal finish line before him, but he now claims the privilege of telling embarrassingly glowing (but absolutely authentic) stories of how amazing his Rosie was, without her interrupting him. She is also survived by her three children, Rochelle, Naomi, and Phil, who made her proud beyond measure, though always tempered in expression by her Midwestern reserve (“Not too shabby!”). She regrets that this latest development may hamper her campaign to spoil her three grandchildren, Hannah Rose Borrett, Drew Logsdon, and Slade Logsdon. At age eight, Hannah identified her grandmother as a superhero in a school essay, and Drew and Slade were frantically in love with her.

She loved strong ginger ale and chardonnay (though not at the same time); taking too many snapshots at family gatherings; and a cold Corona after a night shift, even if it means she’s drinking a beer at 8:00 a.m. with her nurse buddies at Kiko’s. No finer snickerdoodle was ever seen than those that emerged from her oven, and her legendary Christmas decorations turned the family home into a warm, comforting cocoon from a bygone era. Her soul soared with the antics of the birds each evening above the flowers of her garden as she sipped wine and watched the evening colors descend.

Always prone to understatement, in her last week she acknowledged that she’s had a good life, but she admitted wasn’t ready to go. She was really irked that a life of clean living was thwarted by some molecular snafu. The rest of us have to keep that in mind and live each day is if it were Rosie’s.

Arrangements under the direction of Cook-Walden Davis Funeral Home, Georgetown, TX.