Remembering Mary Machado
- Allison Auth
- 4 minutes ago
- 4 min read
I have a glass sitting in my cabinet that I needed to return to Mary Machado. A toothpick holder, really, that she brought to my house for an annual homeschool community event. She left it, and I never got it back to her; I figured I’d just give it back this coming fall. Now I don’t know what to do with it, since Mary left this earth on June 24, 2026, after a short battle with pancreatic cancer.
Only diagnosed less than three weeks prior, her last days were filled with visits from her family and fervent prayers from her community for her healing. Her funeral looked like an ordination crossed with a La Leche League meeting. Her son, Father Jacob Machado, celebrated the Mass with over 30 priests, deacons and seminarians in attendance. With Catholic and homeschool families filling the pews — babies babbling and crying among them — the packed Cathedral Basilica of the Immaculate Conception demonstrated the outsized impact one woman can have when she unites her life to Christ.
Mary was always organizing something, but the organizing was never really the point. Whether she was planning a field trip, mending cassocks, managing the homeschool listserv or hosting a feast day celebration, Mary was building Catholic life — one family, one priest, one seminarian, one child, one gathering at a time. She loved the Communion of Saints, and I pray that she is celebrating with them now.
Mary and I had several layers of connection, but after I got married and had children, my first introduction to the homeschool community was at Mary’s house. We were making corn tortillas and learning about St. Junipero Serra to celebrate his canonization. That was Mary — always a reason to celebrate a feast day or make a historical or scientific connection. Through her regular contributions to Catholic Cuisine and other forums, Mary shared that same joy more widely, keeping meticulous lists of picture books, liturgical living ideas and resources that helped families learn about God’s creation. Learning was never so exciting as it was with Mary.
I see now this was a fruit of Mary embracing her motherhood, putting both her own children and her spiritual children first, and immersing them in a wonderful world of learning.
Mary’s motherly heart extended well beyond her own family. She was a mother to other mothers, arriving early to a homeschool gathering one night to help my neighbor with a breastfeeding issue. She was also a mother to the seminarians and priests of the archdiocese, well before her own son became a priest.
She supported the Denver-based Servants of Christ Jesus in countless hidden ways: ironing linens, mending cassocks, attending to the décor, and helping make their feast day celebrations beautiful. At those parties, Mary was probably the first one there to help set up and the last one to leave after cleaning up. She was a night owl, so late-night gatherings with a glass of wine — or a sink full of dishes — were just fine with her.
She served priests and seminarians at St. John Vianney Theological Seminary in Denver and throughout the Archdiocese of Denver in ways I know about and, I’m sure, in many ways I don’t. She prayed for them, welcomed them into her home for dinner and helped build relationships between them and the families of the archdiocese. She was always thinking of ways to encourage them, whether through St. Nicholas bags, spiritual bouquets during their 30-day Spiritual Exercises or other thoughtful acts of support.
That was Mary: noticing what needed to be done, gathering people around it and turning even the hidden work of the Church into an act of love.
Rick and Mary Machado share their experience as parents of newly ordained Father Jacob Machado. (Video by Denver Catholic Staff)
The day she died, on the Solemnity of the Nativity of John the Baptist, many gathered on Zoom to pray the Rosary for her and the Machado family. It was Wednesday, so as we prayed the glorious mysteries, I meditated on the Resurrection, Ascension and Assumption in ways that reflected Mary’s entrance into eternal life. I couldn’t help but think about how she was perfectly named “Mary.” She spent her life loving, serving, gathering and pointing others to Jesus — a small but faithful reflection of the heavenly Mother whose name she bore.
At her funeral Mass, Father Jacob wasn’t shy about his own grief and unanswered prayers as he wrestled with his mom’s death.
“For her, life was Christ and death was gain,” he said in the funeral homily.
And yet he left us all with hope in the Resurrection. We grieve because death is not the plan, but we are hopeful because of life eternal. More time on earth can be a gift, but Heaven is our heart’s desire and our eternal home, and Mary’s passing points to that truth.
I may not be able to give Mary back her toothpick holder, but I can carry on the tradition of welcome nights and building community, having no doubt that she will be with us in spirit. If Mary taught me anything, it is to make the most of the time we have, giving ourselves in service to those around us out of love for God. I look forward to a heavenly reunion one day, which I’m sure will be the best party ever.
Rest in peace, Mary. Eternal rest grant unto her, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon her.
