FOX, Mary Ellen

Memories from the Wiesens
Mary Ellen was my Godmother, as dear as next of kin. She was one of my mother's closest college friends and their friendship thrived through all the decades of their lives. Mary was also the mother of the family with whom my four sisters and I spent cherished summer vacations at the beach in Quogue and winter skiing holidays in the mountains. I remember every gift Mary sent to me as her God daughter. When I was a child each gift stunned me with feelings of being a special initiate into a wise and potent female tradition. These were semiprecious gems -- rose quartz and sodalite pendant necklaces, a golden charm bracelet, and leather purse I wore until it fell apart 15 years later. In later years, Mary sent beautiful Irish garden books that inspired my work. Her last gift was a poem by Seamus Heaney*, who also lived in Sandymount, Dublin, and who also passed into Spirit in 2013. As per always, Mary signed her final missive - The Godmother. And there was the wink! So characteristic of the playful, intelligent and mysterious woman we knew and loved. One last memory of Mary I'd like to share came from a visit to her home in Dublin with my sister, Liz in 1999. Such a beautiful house and garden! But what stood out for me was the wall at the stair. Covered from top to bottom with photographs of her children and grandchildren. Oversized. Overwhelming. And crystal clear. These were her treasures.Dear Mary, on behalf of my family, our hearts open wide with love and appreciation for the deep enrichments you brought to each of our lives. May your spirit be forever blessed, and your memory beloved. To all the Foxes, we send our love and share in the awe of life's transformations, especially as it takes and reshapes our loved ones. We would all love to hear from you. Or shall we make the time to drive out west together into County Clare?Anne WiesenBrooklyn, NYJanuary, 2014*Postscript, by Seamus HeaneyAnd some time make the time to drive out westInto County Clare, along the Flaggy Shore,In September or October, when the windAnd the light are working off each otherSo that the ocean on one side is wild With foam and glitter, and inland among stonesThe surface of a slate-grey lake is lit By the earthed lightning of a flock of swans,Their feathers roughed and ruffling, white on white,Their fully grown headstrong-looking heads Tucked or cresting or busy underwater.Useless to think you'll park and capture it More thoroughly. You are neither here nor there,A hurry through which known and strange things pass As big soft buffetings come at the car sideways And catch the heart off guard and blow it open.

Memories from the Wiesens Mary Ellen was my Godmother, as dear as next of kin. She was one of my mother's closest college friends and their friendship thrived through all the decades of their lives. Mary was also the mother of the family with whom my four sisters and I spent cherished summer vacations at the beach in Quogue and winter skiing holidays in the mountains. I remember every gift Mary sent to me as her God daughter. When I was a child each gift stunned me with feelings of being a special initiate into a wise and potent female tradition. These were semiprecious gems -- rose quartz and sodalite pendant necklaces, a golden charm bracelet, and leather purse I wore until it fell apart 15 years later. In later years, Mary sent beautiful Irish garden books that inspired my work. Her last gift was a poem by Seamus Heaney*, who also lived in Sandymount, Dublin, and who also passed into Spirit in 2013. As per always, Mary signed her final missive - The Godmother. And there was the wink! So characteristic of the playful, intelligent and mysterious woman we knew and loved. One last memory of Mary I'd like to share came from a visit to her home in Dublin with my sister, Liz in 1999. Such a beautiful house and garden! But what stood out for me was the wall at the stair. Covered from top to bottom with photographs of her children and grandchildren. Oversized. Overwhelming. And crystal clear. These were her treasures.Dear Mary, on behalf of my family, our hearts open wide with love and appreciation for the deep enrichments you brought to each of our lives. May your spirit be forever blessed, and your memory beloved. To all the Foxes, we send our love and share in the awe of life's transformations, especially as it takes and reshapes our loved ones. We would all love to hear from you. Or shall we make the time to drive out west together into County Clare?Anne WiesenBrooklyn, NYJanuary, 2014*Postscript, by Seamus HeaneyAnd some time make the time to drive out westInto County Clare, along the Flaggy Shore,In September or October, when the windAnd the light are working off each otherSo that the ocean on one side is wild With foam and glitter, and inland among stonesThe surface of a slate-grey lake is lit By the earthed lightning of a flock of swans,Their feathers roughed and ruffling, white on white,Their fully grown headstrong-looking heads Tucked or cresting or busy underwater.Useless to think you'll park and capture it More thoroughly. You are neither here nor there,A hurry through which known and strange things pass As big soft buffetings come at the car sideways And catch the heart off guard and blow it open.

12yrs

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FOX, Mary Ellen

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