Obituary of Claire E. Rumney

When we leave our loved ones behind, one of the hardest things for them to do is to capture who we were without reducing us to simply a list of adjectives and bullet points. Each word written is an attempt to resurrect us, and perhaps they feel they always fall a bit short because we're not waiting on the other side of the kitchen door, preparing their favorite snack before settling into the living room to watch our favorite nightly show. But what we don't tell them is it would take another lifetime to write a lifetime of memories, and that our legacy is carried on in how they carry on. Over a year ago, Claire Elizabeth (Jacques) Rumney, 86, of Belfast, recorded a message in which she said that she wished she'd left more of a mark on the world - not a big one - but one that would've left her children saying "that was my mom," something tangible to hang onto well past when she passed away peacefully this Thanksgiving evening, after spending the day with her husband, Richard Rumney of Belfast, and eldest daughter, Regina Gagnon of West Gardiner. What Claire didn't realize was that she had succeeded in leaving her mark in the world, and through this remembrance we hope that others will feel that mark, too. Claire was the fourth child born to parents Frederick and Dora (Temple) Jacques in late October of 1934 in Waterville, Maine. She always loved Halloween and regretted she was too impatient to meet the world and just missed sharing the holiday with her own birthday. Her three older brothers, Frederick Jr, Robert, and James, along with her parents, welcomed her to a celestial Thanksgiving table while her youngest brother, John, and youngest son, Brian Callahan, are still long-time residents of Waterville. Claire used to tell her grandchildren, Melissa Balducci and Tara Bunch of Boothbay, that one day she'd be among those living in the sky who polish the stars, lighting the way for others to make their journey home, and every time they or their father, Gary Gagnon of Mechanic Falls, missed her all they needed to do was to look to the shiniest of stars in the night sky. She used to take the girls on trips to the ocean to collect shells and seaglass (especially cobalt, the rarest to come across) and in the fall, she'd take them on road trips north and let them take turns wearing her rose-tinted sunglasses so they could see just how vibrant the changing leaves were. Claire was an avid reader of mystery, liked the challenge of doing crosswords in pen, and was an expert puzzle maker, her favorites being Norman Rockwell art. She was always looking to learn new things, too; in her golden years, she took up the piano. A lifelong champion of dogs, Claire opened her home as a safe haven for ones surrendered, from as small as chihuahuas to as large as great danes, working as an advocate to find them their forever homes. It was always a little hard to let any of them go, but she knew what joy each dog would bring the families that were waiting to welcome them. She and Richard, who met at a dance hall in the 90s, were deacons of their church and also traveled often to Nova Scotia and at the start of their retirement, sold their home and lived in an RV out in Arizona, enjoying the freedom of minimalist living. While Claire had always dreamt of becoming a court stenographer in her youth, she set that aside to travel around the world with her first husband, a military officer, and focus her attention on raising her children and eventually, her grandchildren. She was her family's personal cheerleader, encouraging them to pursue their dreams and praising them for every accomplishment along the way. Claire always said that she came from the ocean, so it's only fitting that her ashes, as well as the ashes of her beloved pets, will be laid to rest off the coast of Maine while her family sings her favorite song, "You Are My Sunshine." Even though her passing is a loss that is felt deeply by those who love her, she lives on not only in the memories that they carry, but as well as out in the world as they follow her golden rule standard in treating the people around them. The family asks that in lieu of flowers, Claire's kindness is paid forward by donations to local animal shelters, retirement homes, or food banks.