A note from her son: 

It is difficult to look past the end of one’s life and see their beginning and middle; to see the paths they took and the lives they lived before that moment that they stopped. Mary’s life was decidedly more difficult than some. Her trajectory, the way she moved through this world, was without reservation. She looked and leapt in one fluid motion with what appeared to be complete certainty. She could turn a whim into action and an idea into being. She never suffered fools. She always spoke her mind. For her, to live was to fight.

At twenty eight, four years after she met the love of her life, she was diagnosed with Hodgkin’s Lymphoma. It was a death sentence. She fought and she lived. As a result of her cancer treatment, she was told she would never have children. She fought and had a son. She was told she could not build her dream home. There was too much red tape, too many roadblocks. Now her home stands strong amidst a thinning forest, also a survivor, despite torrential storms and a devastating wildfire: A monument to her and her husband’s love. Some would say that her least favorite word was “no”, but in fact “no” was her favorite word. The word was a challenge. A dare. She lived to hear it so she could push yet another boundary.

Mary and David lived many lives together. They reinvented themselves so many times it’s a challenge to recount even the broad strokes let alone the details. She was a farmer's daughter in Nebraska, a student in Los Angeles.  She was a bride on Kauai Island in Hawaii. She sold pottery in Boulder, Colorado. She was a nurse in San Francisco and a nomad in Norway. She was a pioneer and mother in the Santa Cruz mountains off the rugged northern coast of California. She regarded the sun with an almost reverential piety. She loved chocolate chip cookies and getting her hands dirty. She was a good daughter, sister, wife, mother, and grandmother. She was a fierce person. She will be in our hearts. She will remain forever in the wind.

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