Maude Meehan 1920-2007

KATHY CHETKOVICH AND CANDIDA LAWRENCE

We sit at my kitchen table to think of words that might express our sorrow and yet not, as Maude said, “speak only euphemese.”  She is dead, she has not passed over. Never again will we watch her hold a room in her hands, walk tall to a podium and read a new poem. We try to explain to each other that Maude somehow knew everyone yet fought with no one, showed up for worthy causes, and spoke kindly of all the people who asked for her critiques, sent them away with useful comments. The memory of her, a member of our writing group for many years, will not fade. Maude, her name, will forever make us smile, shed a few tears. We cannot forget her.

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