A feminist to the core, though she denied it to the end. A poet and a scientist. A caring mother and grandmother whilst being an agent provocateur. A woman of contradictions, yet clear of mind and strong of will for the 35 years I knew her, and, from what I know, for the 61 other years that I didn't. In her contradictions, I saw many of my own.
I shared her birthday. I shared her taste for red wine (and, later, martinis). I shared her love of conversation and argument. I shared her love of crosswords. I shared her impish sense of humor that is, I think, funniest only to ourselves.
Now that she has completed this journey, I still share all of these things with her.
I recall not that long ago, she was expressing her doubts about modern technology and, specifically Google. A friend at my work pointed out that she, as an academic, was linked inextricably with Google, especially Google Scholar. Of course, so are my mother and me...(of course, I cannot help but point out that my own service does a better job of listing my and only my papers.) Sharing this academic and genetic lineage (though in point of fact Jewell is not genetically linked with Margaret...she being my Jim's mom...) over 3 generations is pretty cool, actually. And I recall Margaret being a bit struck by those links.
More to the point though, she was around when I was very young and instilled in me, with Jim and Jewell of course, a very open and frank style of addressing truth, and searching for truth via discussion and advocacy. She loved to provoke, to force people find and defend what was important to them, and this style I still find in my own interactions. She could be murder to be around, of course. Poking people in their tender parts isn't always the recipe for smooth interactions. She, however, always expressed disdain for the comfortable and the smooth. I never doubted that she had my best interests at heart, and I reacted to that style by growing very confident in my ideas and my mental abilities. A confidence that has come and gone a few times later in my life, but one that I still draw on. This, among other things, I owe her for.
We knew, of course, that she was dying, and I went home several times this year to be around...just to be around. Now I'm leaving tomorrow for Geneva and some meetings that are inconvenient to miss. Death, of course, refuses to be convenient and fit itself into our self-involved schedules, and with Margaret, she never really valued convenience anyway. Priorities are often thought of as simple rankings. But of course they aren't really simple. It isn't a binary choice. It doesn't work like that, and she would have been the the first to argue with me about that.
