Fierce Giver of Life and Love

In my pride I could post a picture, or a poem she wrote, a letter to the editor that changed minds, or meticulous notes taken from physics and chemistry books while 8 of us kids slept soundly, late into the night. IF I could post her laughter, I certainly would, or her sweet, soft lullaby, and the warm, encircling arms that came with it. I might post photos of the dresses she made, the jars of tomatoes she canned, the town council meetings where her well-researched arguments were indisputable. I could post the endless list of articles and even some books published with her name on them. I might mention the fact that she never raised her gentle voice, but commanded endless respect. I could post my woman to woman pride when we worked together on issues that matter, like life, and the environment. I could describe her physical beauty and inner strength. I could tell you of her courage when she faced cancer, and the profound, hope-filled depths of her spirituality.

But someone else on FB today put it more simply, and I’ll borrow from her and hope she doesn’t mind. My Mom Maryclaire was, and is, I am sure, “a fierce giver of life and love”