I went to the grocery store in Cedar City one day, circa 1960, and someone asked me if I worked there and I said “no, I’m just a housewife” – at the time I was 24 years old, with three boys at home (Jim, Joe and Scott) and pregnant with my fourth son Zachary. In hindsight, I often thought about what I had said (just a housewife) and came to believe that I was not “just a housewife” – I was a mother and it was hard work, stressful work, to raise my sons and I wish I could go back to that store and say “I am a mother, the most important job in the world, and I’m trying my best to raise sons that will be good and caring (always protect and defend those that need help, those that are hurting or scared that need someone to stand with them) … that was my primary goal and my mission in my life, and while not perfect, I think I did alright.
I died March 27th, 2020, a Friday, and I was ready to go. The truth is, because I am a mother, I died quite a bit when we lost Zachary to cancer when he was 29, and I died again when Jim left us at age 52 – leaving only the middle boys, Joe and Scott – the point being, I hope my passing is not mourned, no tears, because I so missed my Jim and my Zach and I am with them now.
I was married to J. Harlan Burns who more than did his part helping me raise these boys – there was boxing, horses, dogs, basketball, fist fights, trucks and jeeps, football, the Marysvale house, more fist fights and more horses – the mountain and the cabin, proms, graduations, marriages, divorces, political arguments at Thanksgiving, baseball, a blue flocked tree every Christmas, and more – and we did it all in a little house that, today, is smaller than many folks’ kitchen. It was fast and loud and chaotic and it was excellent.
I loved all things Leo Tolstoy, To Kill A Mockingbird and reading in general. I loved the years I worked in the Principal’s Office while my boys were Cedar High Redmen. I hated watching my boys box, wasn’t all that crazy about Irish Wolfhounds and I didn’t like waiting up to see if one the boys made it off the mountain in a snowstorm. I was blessed with grandchildren (Jack, Jillian, Beth, Joey, Nick and Carly) and I love the memories I have with them – I tried my best and I hope you know I love you.
Don't look to me, but to my sons and grandchildren and great grandchildren and know that at the end my essential question was to the whereabouts and the wellness of my sons; my unmitigated joy, slapping my leg and laughing outright, was generated from grandchildren and great grandchildren. Therein lies my work and my immortality.
Connie’s final arrangements are under the direction of Southern Utah Mortuary.