Merrilee Ruth Hughes

Dallas, Texas — Merrilee Hughes, born Merrilee Ruth Devlen January 19, 1946, died April 13 due to progressive neurological decline following an operation to treat aortic dissection in 2012. She lived a life of undeniable purpose, substance and beauty. Even those brutal final years served to strengthen bonds within her family.

As her body and mind failed her, still she had love to give and lessons to teach. She was perpetually surrounded by people who cherished her and never saw her as anything less than the brilliant girl who left this world a bit better, by healthy children, garden patches and enlightened classes.

Her husband of more than 51 years, Steve, seldom left her side. You will hear him laughing, see him smiling, as he did every day of her infirmity. But realize his heart is broken (so give him a big hug).

Merrilee’s last days were also spent with the caring staff and a host of big-hearted neighbors in the memory center at Brookdale White Rock. What made her smile, right to the end, was a swig of Diet Coke and a visit from little Norah, who responded to news of her grandmother’s death with a cheerful, “she’s not in a wheelchair anymore” before detailing quixotic conditions of a free-flying afterlife.

Merrilee was born in Cortland, New York to Dorothy and Harold Devlen. She loved horses and every animal on the farm, except snakes, perhaps the only creature to which she willingly would inflict harm.

She adored her big brother Buddy and enjoyed adventures to Niagara Falls with adopted sisters Marty and Jeanie. Her high school yearbook reveals she was both cheerleader and homecoming queen. With her best friend Vesta, she ran the streets of Upstate New York befriending rock stars and breaking hearts.

While in college at Cortland State she worked at Smith-Corona. In a 1967 company newsletter, Merrilee Devlen is pictured with her blond head resting on a keyboard.

“Who can help but be moved by the young, the lovely, the hopeful,” the caption read. “Was a typewriter ever in better company?”

After college — inspired by the Beatles’ “I’ll Follow the Sun” — Merrilee moved across the country to Del Mar California.

She took a teaching job at Escondido’s Orange Glen School and rented a place at the Seahorse Inn, an oceanside apartment building with pink walls and a pool.

The day she moved in, she caught the eye of a young Marine who’d recently survived the conflict in Vietnam.

“It was March of 1971,” Steve recalls. “I was washing my car and she stepped out on her balcony.”

Her emerald green bikini did nothing to discourage him. They married in November at a South San Diego neighborhood church. She wore a Mexican peasant dress and flowers in her long hair. The guest list included Andy Parsons, Joe and Lindy Wisdom, Steve and Mary Barrett and the bride and groom families: Harold and Dorothy on one side. On the other, Steve’s Dad and Mom, Thomas and Jinx, and siblings Sally, Mary, Tom, John and Mike.

Life was groovy and chill — weekends in LaJolla surf and Laguna mountains — for a couple more years until they made a beach baby on Hot Wheels. They called her Christy. Once Steve finished law school, the trio joined Steve’s family in Texas. Twins John and Colleen arrived and the family made their first Dallas home a block from Tom and Jinx. Christy, John and Colleen ran around with neighborhood kids, and when it was time to come home, Merrilee would whistle, which became a familiar, legendary sound.

Merrilee endeared herself to the Texans — she could toss a football, shoot a gun and play piano; she tolerated Steve’s teenage brothers; and, boy, could she handle a horse. At the Hughes ranch, only the bravest could ride the upper pasture, to the fence, and back, because, on the return trip, those ponies would hit ludicrous speed. Though prone to excessive worry about her children, Merrilee was remarkably relaxed when everyone else could see she was risking her own life and limb.

She had a knack for remaining calm during crises, as if the chaos when it came validated all the worrying. When Christy accidentally severed Colleen’s pinkie finger with the garage door, Merrilee just scooped up the bloody digit, placed it in a ziplock with some ice cubes, and — with her screaming, mangled tot in tow — said, “Let’s go,” to Steve, who obediently drove them to a hospital. In fact, Merrilee in motherhood dealt with so much blood and vomit (predominantly John’s) that, in hindsight, her anxieties seem rather reasonable.

She had an artist’s soul. She once hand made a stuffed pink pig after a Charlotte’s Web screening. She stitched pockets onto “tooth fairy pillows” for the children and made them knockoff Jams (a brand of Hawaiian-print short pants inexplicably popular in the 1980s). She taught Mozart to her grandchildren. She constructed stately sandcastles and collected grains from every beach she visited including Port Aransas, San Diego, Cayuga Lake, Honolulu.

Through the 80s, Merrilee taught fifth grade at St. Pius, where she met Sharon, who she introduced to Steve’s brother Mike — Mike and Sharon hit it off and are now grandparents several times over.

She briefly taught at Robert T. Hill in East Dallas before landing at nearby St. Bernard Catholic School, where she specialized in science and art for more than a decade and earned a Diocesan Teacher of the Year nomination.

No one wants to admit she had a favorite, but when her first grandchild, Cole, came along, it kind of seemed like she had a favorite.

Mrs. Hughes, as she’s known by so many, was a guardian angel to Cole and his sister Morgan while they attended St. Bernard. (And she loved Lauren, their sister from another mother, as her own). She cared deeply for the misunderstood, befriending the homeless, defending the weak, standing up to bullies.

Merrilee was a seeker. She converted to Catholicism early in life, and she read books about spirituality and enlightenment — A Return to Love, The Road Less Traveled. After a breast cancer diagnosis and during treatment, she grew fascinated by tales of angels, fairies and the spiritualist community of Lillydale in New York, which she visited with friends in the 2000s. It is said the residents of Lillydale commune with the dead, so if you go, see if you can have a word with Merrilee.

She always had a novel in progress — John Irving, Sidney Sheldon, Toni Morrison, Wally Lamb. She loved Bon Jovi, Joan Jett, The Beatles, Linda Rhonstadt. She still teared up to Bette Midler’s “The Rose,” even after she forgot the words. She loved to dance until she forgot how.

She was at the gym with her friend Rose in 2012 when she fell unconscious and was rushed across the street to Doctors Hospital. The physician told Steve and the children to say their goodbyes. There’s a 90% chance she won’t last the night, he’d said. Colleen flew in from Las Vegas with newborn Owen strapped to her chest. When Merrilee regained consciousness weeks later she was heard telling a visitor, "Colleen spent all that money to get here and I didn’t even die.”

During that hospitalization, Merrilee received almost 300 messages on Caring Bridge from past students and old friends. She lived to see the outpouring of love. She saw 11 more Christmases, had a 70th birthday party, danced at family weddings, including John’s, welcomed new grandchildren and her first great-granddaughter, Issy, and dipped her toes in the ocean 100 more times. She’s had a thousand hugs and watched as many episodes of Ellen, which always made her laugh.

The surgery that afforded her all these days hurt her mind and gradually eroded her memory. But all bodies and minds fail eventually, and only love is real. She believed that, and she believed this line she underlined in A Return to Love: “Physical incarnation is a classroom experience, and souls come to class to learn what they need to learn.”

Merrilee is preceded in death by her parents, Dorothy and Harold; sisters Jeanie and Marty and father-in-law Thomas Hughes.

She is survived by her loving husband, Stephen J. Hughes; children Christina Hughes Babb, Colleen Conlon and John Hughes; children-in-law Joshua Babb, Chris Conlon and Hannah Hughes; grandchildren Stephen Cole Babb, Lauren Ethington and Morgan Babb, Grace Upton, Anthony Hughes, Britton Hughes, Liam Hughes and Norah Hughes, Owen Conlon and Conor Conlon; brother Bud Devlen; mother-in-law Jinx Hughes; brothers-in-law Tom, Mike and John Hughes; sisters-in-law Sally Devlen, Sally Enzian, Mary Hughes, Tammy Hughes, Sharon Hughes and Sue Hughes; nephews Dan and Jeremy Devlen, Chad Hughes, Thomas John Hughes, Bobby Hughes; nieces Lisa Enzian, Michelle Hughes, Lauren Hughes, Jennifer, Courtney, Shannon, Katie, Terry and Jennifer … and many great nieces and nephews, beloved friends, colleagues and former students.

A funeral mass will be held at St. Bernard of Clairvaux Catholic Church, 1404 Old Gate Lane Friday, May 5, 2023 at 10 a.m. A reception will follow at the church from 11-1. She will be inurned at Dallas-Fort Worth National Cemetery the following Monday, May 8, at 11:30 a.m.

In lieu of flowers, please consider donating to St. Bernard of Clairvaux Catholic School in Merrilee's name. Or donate in Merrilee’s memory to the Alzheimer's Association of Dallas and Northeast Texas.