Margaret Carol Hamilton

Feb. 28, 1944 - Nov. 19, 2025

Margaret was raised in the Berkeley Hills in a family of five children, and moved to New Jersey in 1970, with her then husband, Angelo Sargentini, and baby son Tuckoo. She eventually settled in Annandale and worked for Norwescap, where she was hired by Mary Lou Carhart with whom she opened The Gazebo in 1973. For 13 years, The Gazebo, which she dubbed “a mini country boutique of non-essential goods,” became a place for Margaret to befriend the Clinton community. After closing The Gazebo she attended massage school and many of us benefited from her magic hands, and others were the recipients of Margaret’s thoughtful and detail-oriented care through house cleaning, house sitting, plant care, and pet sitting. Margaret cared deeply about her family, friends, and the world. A world in which she was actively engaged, sometimes disgusted by and often inspired by. The radio was always on in Margaret’s place, and she’d share what she had learned and was outraged by. She would also share the plot of her latest read or give you a copy of one of her favorite books. Buddhist philosophy spoke to her heart; an image of the current Dalai Lama held a prominent position in her living room and you’d likely find a copy of Tricycle magazine on her side table. In myriad ways Margaret made the mundane magical. She lived awash in the colors of deep purple, teal, and magenta; her style is best described as Whimsical Earthy Quirk. To know Margaret was to understand her penchant for patchouli, lavender and candles—adding another sensory dimension to the experience of her being. To be in her space was to step into her world. Margaret was an artist at heart, her medium words, spontaneous songs for any occasion, markers, fabric, paper, pins, photos, and magazines. She created personal collages in her birthday cards and did fantastic and original wrapping of all the gifts she gave. Margaret didn’t just sign any check, or document; each would receive a little doodle person. Of course for Margaret hats were requisite for any special gathering, and if you didn’t have a hat and it was your birthday the chances of her making you a special one were high. Her place settings were always creative, playful, and fabulous, with a one-time mistake of adding glitter, which wound up in every dish. Her letters and cards were a delight to receive, filled with fanciful words, those pleasing doodles, and often a poem that had touched her heart. Margaret had eclectic musical tastes spanning from Donna Summer to Laurie Anderson. Her birthday serenades could morph from an old standard into unimaginable sounds and variations on the birthday theme. Since she was a child, Margaret was a dancer, to Motown, Donna Summer, but especially her own drummer—with dramatic gestures, big expressions, and impromptu solo dance parties. Margaret was deeply curious about her fellow humans. Whereas many people greet each other with a perfunctory “howyadoin,” not expecting or wanting a response, when she asked, “How are you?” it was a genuine question to which she would listen closely, and remember your answer the next time you saw her. Margaret always talked about her friends, sharing their stories. Margaret was not to be stopped by a stage-four cancer diagnosis. She had connections to make, friends to care for and to remember, songs to sing, and books to read. Fifteen years later, her body finally decided it was time to go. Her spirit, however, had other plans, as she sang to the EMTs on the way to hospice. Her existence marked each of our hearts, goading us into being a bit more colorful, a little more curious, unafraid of indulging in whimsy, and most especially to be abundantly caring towards each other. Margaret is survived by her son, Tuc Sargentini and his wife Areta, her twin sister Patty Hamilton, older sister, Helen Rivas, younger brothers, Skip and David, and many in-laws, nieces, nephews, and cousins in Alabama, Arizona, California, Indiana, and Massachusetts, as well as many friends, who meant the world to her. She was predeceased by her parents, Dorothy & Perry Hamilton, dear aunts and uncles, her life-long friend Leo Withers, her ex-husband and partner, Angelo & Virg, and too many friends to count but whom she always remembered.