For Becky

One of my first memories of playing with clay was at a workshop in the basement of the Unitarian Church.  I was very young and my mother was with me. A husband and wife were teaching a lot of folks how to make slab built pots and simple sculptures. I don't remember much about the workshop to be honest.  I remember the finished product, a round blue flower vase with a clay maple leaf on it’s front.  

Becky last summer 

What I do remember, vividly, is how kind and patient the woman instructing me was. That is probably because throughout my life this couple’s kindness became a constant every time our paths crossed. I grew up an only child under the parentage of two artists (well, one former artist turned extreme art enthusiast / HR manager). This combination led to lots of time at local art shows, gallery openings, open houses, and art courses.  There are many faces from those days that became friends and mentors, but the couple I'm speaking of, Claude and Becky Deegan, stand out amongst the rest.

Becky took a pottery class at Parkersburg Community College and as far as I can tell made and sold pottery locally for many years. Becky and Claude would open their home during the holidays and serve hot apple cider and snacks while friends and customers walked about their beautiful home and studio looking at the works they had created. I have been eating off of Becky's pottery all of my life. She made a small baby dish for my parents when I was born. My mother tells me it was simple and the perfect size. She said it was my main bowl at feeding time. Becky's work was wonderfully functional, and when I returned home last summer for a visit I remember eating from her plates made being home feel even more . . . homey. I also learned that Becky was struggling with dementia. My parents and I visited the Deegan's home and studio and had a magnificent day. A friend of the family, and Becky's original ceramics instructor, Henry Aglio, was also there helping Becky continue to create pottery. They were in the middle of a firing. He said that making pots was really good for her, and that, even though some days she couldn't remember him or other things, she seemed to always remember parts of the creative process. It was a brilliant day. I took a lot of pictures of her more recent work. 

The new work Becky was producing last summer. 

Wednesday morning I received an early morning Skype call from my father informing me that Becky had passed away. My thoughts and heart go out to Claude and the rest of the Deegan family, but words offer little in the way of comfort when confronted with loss and sorrow. My childhood, and life, were better for having Becky's smile.