Margaret Ann Roan is a volunteer in our Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU) three days a week, every Tuesday and Thursday from noon to four and Friday from nine to one. She walks in with a soft smile and two heavy bags in her hands. She is eighty-eight years old and still drives herself in her van. From the first day I met her, there was something about her that felt warm and familiar like comfort wrapped in human form.
Our hospital has a Cuddler Program where trained volunteers hold premature or medically fragile babies when parents can’t be at the bedside. Their touch calms the infants, eases stress, and reminds these tiny lives that they are loved, even in uncertain moments. Margaret lives for this role. When a baby cries, her face lights up because that means she gets to hold them. Nurses gently place the crying babies into her arms, and she cradles them close to her heart. When the babies don’t cry, she is almost disappointed – because she truly loves holding them, comforting them, and sharing that quiet moment of connection. There’s no blood relation, yet the bond feels real. Sometimes her touch feels stronger than medicine.
Even though she is here to cuddle babies, Margaret is always caring for everyone around her too. She never shows up empty-handed, just as she never shows up without love. Once, when I rushed to help her with her bags, she laughed and said “This is too heavy for you.” She would rather give help than receive it. She carries stacks of blankets to the warmer without hesitation. Watching her move with such purpose at her age is truly inspiring. She often asks about the babies she once held, whether they made it home: She asks with eyes full of hope, and she returns each year to see her babies during our annual NICU reunion day.
One afternoon, a coworker asked me, “Why don’t you go get your coffee?” I simply replied that I was okay and would get it later: Margaret must have heard the conversation, A few minutes later, she appeared in front of me with a cup of coffee, sugar, and a straw – She had brought it without being asked. That is just how she cares for people: quietly and thoughtfully
Somewhere along the way, I jokingly told her since I don’t have a mother, I was going to adopt her. She smiled and said “Yes” From that day on, everyone knows Margaret as my “adopted mom.” She uses Facebook and email better than most people my age. If I message her, she replies almost instantly. Our relationship feels easy, natural, like it was always meant to be.
Outside the hospital, she is just as full of life. At Thanksgiving, she surprised us with a pumpkin she made from fabric cut from her late husband’s shirt. At Christmas, she proudly showed off a wreath she crafted herself out of her old tin cookie cutters. Her hands are always creating something for someone else.
Margaret recognized that many parents are often busy with work or caring for other children. When they visit their baby in the NICU, they may not have the time or mental space to bring books to read. Wanting to make a difference, Margaret took the initiative. She went to Home Depot in Plano and asked for wood scraps, explaining her idea of building a small bookshelf so books would be readily available for parents.
A store associate told her he would gather some materials and asked her to return later that afternoon. When Margaret came back, he surprised her by presenting a bookshelf he had already built for her. She took it home, carefully sanded and painted it, and added pink and blue ducks to match the NICU baby blankets.
Margaret then filled the bookshelf with books donated by Hope’s Door. Thanks to her thoughtful effort, parents now have the opportunity to read to their babies during their NICU visits. Margaret’s vision and commitment to her community are truly inspiring.
In addition to creating a space for reading, Margaret also recognized another simple yet meaningful need in the NICU- comfort for parents. After returning to volunteer following the COVID pandemic, she noticed the absence of rocking chairs, an essencial part of nurturing and bonding. Taking initiative once again, Margaret reached out through Marketplace, asking for donated rocking chairs or gliders. The response was immediate. What began with just two donated chairs has now grown to nine, providing comfort and support to parents and volunteers alike. Through these thoughtful efforts, Margaret continues to bring warmth, care and a sense of home into the NICU environment.
When I visited her home, she welcomed me like family and introduced me to her neighbor who speaks Malayalam, my native language. They told me that everyone on the street knows Margaret, because she makes it a point to stop and greet everyone she meets – No one is a stranger to her. I also came to admire her independence; she still drives herself around her local area with confidence, something that quietly inspired me.
When she visited my home, she arrived with her son Rand Roan, smiling proudly as she walked in and said, “I made it.” She enjoyed everything I cooked, especially a green bean stir-fry from vegetables in my garden. She even went back for seconds. That day happened to be my birthday, though I hadn’t told her. When she found out, she gently scolded me for keeping it from her. One day, she brought me a photograph of herself holding her late husband. They were married for sixty-two years. You can still see the love in her eyes. That photo now sits proudly on her Facebook profile.
There is still so much more I could say about my mother. Among the countless unique people in this world, Margaret stands apart – gracefully proving that age is just a number. Through her life, she reminds us that love, kindness, and a sense of purpose never grow old.She doesn’t just hold babies. She holds hearts, Including mine.
Happy Mother’s Day to my sweet adopted mom, Margaret.
