Marsha Matteson

Marsha was smart, fun, and generous whenever she could be, especially with close friends and family. Born in Japan in 1949 to U.S. Army Medic Sgt. Ellsworth W. Matteson and his new wife Ruth Klagge Matteson, she grew up largely in foreign lands and several southern U.S. States. She loved nature, especially rocks and shells, and adored her cats. Marsha is survived by her sister Patti M. Marxsen of Camden, Maine; her niece Katherine M. Bates with Skip Bates; and her nephew Michael P. Marxsen with Alex Marxsen. Marsha loved the poetry of Mary Oliver, and so her sister Patti chose this poem as a final farewell and appreciation:

You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting -
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.
by Mary Oliver (www.poetry.com)