Margie Cleghorn

Margie Hammock Cleghorn, 57, of Macon, beloved wife, mother, sister, aunt, cousin and friend, passed away Sunday, January 26, 2014. The funeral services will be private. Born in Washington, D.C., she was the daughter of the late David Matteson Hammock and Marinel Harrell Hammock, also deceased. Margie is survived by a large and loving family: Husband, Robert Paul Cleghorn of Macon; daughters Marisa Lee Cleghorn of Los Angeles, CA and Jennalee Cleghorn of Macon; sister Marianne Reeves and her husband Rocky, of Chattahoochee Hills, GA; sister Marilisa Prevatt and her husband Allen, of Fenton, MI; brother David Hammock and his wife Carla, of Sugar Land, TX; sister, Bonnie Steveson; sister Leilani Hammock and her partner Mark Jones, of Huntsville, AL; and sister Bonnie Stevenson and her husband Wayne, of Gray, GA. She is also survived by many brothers- and sisters-in-law, several nieces and nephews, cousins near and far, and her family of friends of her heart. Margie loved animals, nature and the stars in the sky. In lieu of flowers, the family requests donations be made to Dark Skies of Westcliffe, Colorado. Friends may sign the online register at www.hartsmort.com. Hart's Mortuary and Crematory at the Cupola has charge of the arrangements. Margie's Poem Today our darling water girl Margie floats like a leaf on immortality's quiet surface. I can see her there, bobbing and turning in the subtle existential current. Her toes pointing emphatically upwards, so much like her spirit among us did. Now peace is her moment, peace her being. Her eyes fixed inwardly on the endless heavens she so much enjoyed observing. So much she did teach us about those heavens. Her time with us at an end. Her timeless journey underway. We her family make plans to come sit with her body and her children who issued forth from it. So much do we want that one extra touch, that kiss to her forehead, my fingers on her shoulder one more time. So much do we want to cling to each other in our grief and sorrow. But a rare snowstorm invades Georgia today. Flight boards say "Cancelled." Roads become an unacceptable risk for her beloved family to travel. The weather outside seems to say, emphatically: "Be still." Or is that Margie's big smile advising us: "Wait. It's okay. Come when you can. Be careful for your children and all those who love you. I am with you always, even so." Margie liked my writing, so I write for her. She is immortal in each of our hearts. Her body may be still now, but the river she travels today flows always. We shall gather at the river this summer, the luster of her life to share as she becomes forever one with the water. Love, Brother Steve