Margaret Ann Miller

Margaret Ann (Wyatt) Miller October 22, 1930 – October 20, 2026

Margaret Ann Miller, a quiet force for good whose life of grace, determination, and unconditional love became the history that mattered most to those who knew her, passed away peacefully, leaving behind a legacy of warmth, stability, and refuge that will continue to nurture generations.

Born on October 22, 1930, in Burley, Idaho, Margaret was the third of five children and the only daughter of Isabell Parker Maughn and Irvin Wyatt. The Great Depression had just claimed the family farm, and her parents worked hard renting land in the Pella and Burley area. What they lacked in material abundance they gave freely in love. Margaret remembered wearing two flour-sack dresses, alternating them as they were washed, and repeating kindergarten because she slept through the first year. Family trips were rare, but Memorial Day visits to Wellsville, Utah, to decorate graves taught her the importance of remembering those who came before.

When her mother developed rheumatoid arthritis, Margaret, still only twelve or thirteen, stepped into the role of a homemaker. She learned cooking, sewing, and the careful keeping of a home from her sweet mother, later refining her cooking skills even further with her mother-in-law, Anna Miller. She developed an eye for beauty and order from a young age. She loved her mother’s dish cupboard, and always preferred the gentle phrase “soap is cheap” over any harsher judgment.

Margaret married Marvin Miller on July 1, 1949, after a friend predicted the match during a long bus ride to school many years earlier. Their honeymoon to Yellowstone became a family legend: no motels available over the Fourth of July, a kind couple offering blankets so they could sleep in the car, and the motor of her new father-in-law’s car burning up along the way. They began married life in Burley before moving to Los Angeles in 1952 where Marvin was born and had roots. There they raised Kathy (born 1950), Ann (born 1954), and Tom (born 1962). Marvin started Miller Plumbing with a truck given to him by his brother, and together they were dedicated to hard work and to each other, eventually settling in homes they constructed in Rolling Hills Estates, including the final family home on Pleasant Hill Drive where they lived until the spring of 2025.

Margaret’s children never had to search for her when they came home from school; if she was not in the house, she was in the garden. Meals were always at the ready, and the house was spotless. Her daughter Kathy remembers her mother would polish her black saddle shoes and bleach her shoelaces every night. She managed it all with an ease that made it look effortless, and most of all, she loved it. She loved creating a sanctuary and refuge for anyone who came by to visit, and for her family most of all.

Members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, Margaret and Marvin served faithfully in the Los Angeles Temple each week for nearly thirty years, finding deep joy in serving others. They were known for their immense generosity both in spirit and in sharing with others all things they had been blessed with.

Margaret was an incredibly rare balance of being entirely self-possessed while exuding warmth. She made anyone in her presence feel at ease, welcome and wanted. She did not criticize. She did not meddle. She did not lecture. Her circumstances did not change her character, because she did not consider herself above others. Her dignity and kindness ennobled the people around her. Her husband adored her – she was the only person who could get him to stop teasing someone by saying his name and giving him a look. Her children spouses called her mom, and her granchildren’s spouses (and even some of their friends) called her grandma because that is who she was to them. What she loved the most was to have her visitors sit by her, hold their hand, and pat it gently while she listened to all of their stories, only interrupting with her contagious chuckle and a few exclamations along the way.

Given her talents it’s impossible to define which one she will be remembered for the most, but her gardens would be very high on the list, particularly her award-winning rose garden. Her roses brought joy to many people but especially to her grandchildren’s teachers, who would regularly receive them on a Monday morning, freshly cut after the weekly Sunday family dinner at her house. She loved living things and loved getting her hands dirty to help them grow – vegetables, orange trees, apple trees, avocado trees, berries, tulips, vegetables, hydrangeas, or anything that wasn’t a weed – and she loved the birds who visited them.

She and Marvin traveled widely. Their grandchildren loved to look at scrapbooks of their adventures in faraway places like Africa, Bangkok, New Zealand, Holland, Costa Rica and ski trips to Europe. Marvin loved to ski, so Margaret finally learned how at the age of 37 so she could join the fun instead of waiting in the lodge. They took the family to Snowmass Colorado every year – grandchildren and great grandchildren were given the privilege to go when they turned 8 years old – and grandma would always be there waiting for them at the end of the day, ready to hear about all their adventures on the mountain.

They designed their free time and interests around their family. They took grandchildren on annual summer adventures across the country and passed down a love of the

Dodgers and BYU football. When BYU’s stadium expanded in 1982, they built a home in Heber City so they could attend every home game, and they filled their loge with children, grandchildren, and friends, quietly supporting the program before its national rise. Weddings and funerals were carefully planned to avoid coinciding with BYU football games.

Margaret and Marvin were intentional about creating spaces and connection amongst their friends and family, both immediate and extended. They were known for their Memorial Day breakfast and pool party every year that drew hundreds of people to their home in Los Angeles. They planned and hosted numerous family reunions across the country from Tennessee, to Washington, Idaho and Texas. Every Sunday, the family would gather at their home after church to play together and eat her famous Sunday dinners.

You could not find a person who had a bad word to say about her. She was dignified without judgment, quiet and thoughtful, content in the company of her family. She did not lecture or raise her voice—except to shoo Marvin from her kitchen when he came to check on whatever wonderful thing she was cooking. Her life itself was the lesson. Grandchildren knew what it felt like to be unconditionally loved, nurtured, and prioritized without being enabled. She held high standards for herself, her home, and her conduct, yet never made anyone with different standards feel lesser. She cared about what was right rather than what was popular. She had no need for attention or accolades, just a kiss from her grandkids as soon as they walked in the door and a kiss on their way out. She was happiest sitting with her family, listening at the Sunday dinner table to stories of sports, history, or whatever was on their minds, and chuckling as she took it all in.

In an age that often celebrates the loud and the dramatic, Margaret embodied the profound power of a well-lived, quietly devoted life of faith. Her love was steady, her homes a beacon, and her example a lasting inheritance. She leaves behind her 3 children, Kathy Garnica (Ruben), Ann Miller Seegmiller, and Tom Miller, as well as 11 grandchildren, 39 great-grandchildren, and 5 great-great grandchildren, all who were blessed to call her theirs and love her beyond measure.