euskalkultura.eus

10/04/2019 - Grand Junction, EEUU

(nota necrológica publicada en The Daily Sentinel, Legacy.com el 16 de junio de 2019)

Adina Margaret "Maggie" Doyhenard, age 77, died April 10, 2019, in Grand Junction, Colorado. 

Memorial services will be June 18, 2019, at 10:00 a.m. at Martin Mortuary in Grand Junction, Colorado. Graveside services will follow at Crown Point Cemetery, with a dessert reception at the Handball Court at Canyon View Park to conclude Maggie's Celebration. Bring a camp chair and dessert. Let's share! 

Maggie was born in Santa Ana, California to Joe Burt Arterberry and Adina May Granath on November 1, 1941. An adorable blonde haired, blue eyed baby girl, Maggie was nurtured with tender kindness by friends and family in Gateway and the Unaweep Canyon while her father served in WWII. Young women cared for Maggie as if she were their own. She carried a tender memory of their unselfish love every day of her life. 

At age seven, Maggie got a new mama when her father wed Melba Ilk. The Ilk family scooped her into its fold, giving Maggie the happiness of a permanent home. A school friendship with three sisters and a baby boy bumped Maggie's life onto a new path. The Gauthier girls and Maggie had so many adventures, there should be a book! All agreed, though: Summer sheep camp was always the most fun. 

Maggie met a handsome Basque sheepherder at sheep camp. Jean-Pierre Doyhenard hadn't intended to stay in the United States, but love moves mountains. Jean saved his money, became a US citizen and bought 1200 sheep. 

In June, 1959, Maggie and Jean were married and they set off to make a sheep camp of their own on Pinion Mesa. Coal oil lamps, a Dutch oven, cast iron skillets, huge kettles, tin buckets and a couple of wash tubs, those were wedding presents Maggie's Grandma Ilk dug out of a garage so Maggie could set up housekeeping. Cooking on a wood stove, no electricity or running water. Perfect! 

Jean and Maggie moved to a different cabin every few weeks on Pinion Mesa, following their sheep. Winters were spent on the desert along the Dolores River in Utah, west of Gateway. Pinion Mesa and Glade Park folk took the newlyweds under their wing. Maggie loved them all for teaching her to be a stockman's strong wife. 

Maggie and Jean became parents in May, 1960 when Mona Kay was born. Jean was lambing while Maggie delivered a daughter in town. They hauled their three week old baby to the high country because "you can't just stop fixing fence." 

In February, 1962, Maggie and Jean welcomed Michael Vincent, such a handsome little fella, a son they both adored. Maggie saw Michael's mechanical ability before he was two, so she nurtured his desire and fed his need to build things. 

She helped Mona recognize the value of words and telling stories. Maggie showed both her children the magic of quietly watching nature and accepting wild things as they've always been. Maggie showered both her babies with undying devotion. She is the mother who raised her children high, higher than she'd been raised herself. 

Maggie and Jean moved off the mountain in 1964 and bought a farm at Appleton in 1969. Her new chapter began on 31 acres, in a house built in 1900. A whole new way of life flourished. Her kitchen table was the hub for family meals and serious discussion, while the kitchen itself hosted bum lambs and millionaires alike. 

4-H kids filled Christmas baskets for shut-ins there, and she held the hands of broken hearted friends struggling to understand life's cruel truths. Mother D's perspective sometimes wasn't what we wanted to hear, but advice was always given with kindness, love and concern. 

You found sanctuary with Maggie, whether in quiet conversation at her table or in a midnight jam session in the hay barn. For a woman so tiny, no hug was ever as powerful as a hug from Maggie. Her embrace was mystical. On the flip side, she never left a good razzin' on the table. She never forgot the fun! 

Mona and Michael weren't the only neighborhood kids Maggie's love touched. She went out of her way for so many. She drove sweaty wrestlers home from matches in her little Ford Falcon at 1:00 a.m. Maggie was a 4-H Leader for nearly a decade, with all the meetings, events and Mesa County Fairs that go with that role. 

Maggie and Jean were invited to Fruita Monument High School's Prom in 1977, an invitation she never forgot. Maggie may have won that invitation after brazenly shinnying across the beams high above the school gym, with crepe paper and masking tape clenched in her teeth. 

Maggie and Jean went to prom that year, her first formal school dance ever. Her smile was radiant, and the dress she wore still hangs in her closet. 

Maggie got a part time job as a substitute cook at Appleton School in 1972, and a Five-Star Lunch Lady was born. She cooked and served children at Tope, Lincoln Park and Broadway Elementary Schools, and was chosen to be kitchen manager when Wingate School opened. 

Maggie retired from District 51 Food Service after being the Kitchen Manager at Wingate Elementary for 32 years. Hundreds of thousands of little people went through her lunch lines. Maggie nourished hungry tummies, and tried every day to let kids know they could count on her. Maggie the Lunch Lady was watchful. She understood how encouragement is bestowed on a rotten day. She was a loving example of friendship, greeting kids with a genuine smile, a big hug and extra tater tots when nothing else would do. 

Maggie loved her children, but her grandchildren were the most cherished treasures of her heart. She was present when both Kyndall and Brandon came into the world. She floated seven feet off the ground at the sound of each baby's first tiny cry. Oh, the look in her eyes! Her tear-streaked, joyful face was aglow with love. Those little ones had Grandma's fierce devotion from their first meeting. Maggie was kinda little, but she could be a little loud and supremely persuasive. 

The Basque Handball Court at Canyon View Park stands today, in part, because she rejected an idea to tear it down for a parking lot. In her heart, the handball court at 24 and G Roads held precious memories of cultural fun, tied to her husband's heritage, cemented long before the site was folded into a municipal park. 

Maggie, always the peacekeeper, went to war. She stirred the pot, simmering a beautiful collaboration among unlikely partners. With the Basque community coaxed into action, she drew sketches on butcher paper for parks staff, then convinced private citizens, businesses and historians to fight. Months of work and angst boiled down to a single City Council meeting. Council voted to preserve the fronton. The community won, because Maggie took up a cause that was worth a good fight. 

Maggie was a good woman, good at so many things. She loved to dance, anytime, anywhere! 

She made the best cinnamon rolls on Earth. She could out-fish most anyone and not even use a pole. Maggie could pick up a piece of broken flint and in minutes circle in on arrowheads that had been lost to time. She canned fruits and vegetables from a garden she tended, and sewed her own clothes because store bought stuff just never fit right.

Maggie was a crack shot with whatever gun, bow, rock or stick you put in her hands. She was Jean's "lambing crew" on the farm, up every couple hours all night in spring, delivering lambs in a cold, dark corral because, "my ladies need me." She could run like the wind, catch a fly-ball barehanded, ride horses bareback, swim like a fish and climb rocks like a goat. 

"You can't do that!" was same as daring her to dive right in! Maggie took up rollerblading in her 50's. Jean got Band-Aides for the road-rash. 

When she decided to learn to play the fiddle, Jean buried his head in pillows for nights she practiced. 

Their time together, a simple life of devotion, mutual trust and respect for one another, is a perfect love story. Maggie lost Jean in 2007, and was never quite the same for missing him. 

Her parents, Burt and Melba Arterberry and May Yeager have also gone on. Maggie missed her Aunt Margaret and Uncle Tony Kovach; friend, Buddy Plank, and her dear neighbor, Mrs. Ted. Her surrogate families in Gateway, on Glade Park and Pinion Mesa, and in Appleton have dwindled, too. There's comfort knowing she's had a chance to hug their necks now. 

Maggie is mourned by her son, Michael Doyhenard (Melissa). Daughter, Mona Dyer (Rick) of Grand Junction, misses her lifelong partner in crime. Granddaughter, Kyndall Dyer of Lakewood, and grandson, Brandon Dyer of Grand Junction cherish their Grandma's memory. Maggie also leaves her extended family, the Gauthier kids, Lewis, Kruckenberg, Mahoney & Davis families, and so many others she adored. She is survived by cousins, half-siblings, and in-laws in California and the French Pyrenees who remember her with love. 

There was only one Maggie. 

In lieu of flowers, consider contributions in Maggie Doyhenard's name to HopeWest Hospice in Grand Junction, because they took such good care of Jean, the sweetest love of her amazingly simple life.