Emily Clingman

How do you even announce the death of somebody as complex and beautiful as our mother? The tragic and unexpected nature of death so young, is that we never thought to prepare for it. We figured it would be dozens of years before we were tasked to memorialize her. This, like death, has become inevitable. As her children, we can only hope to memorialize our mother henceforth as well as she would have written this announcement for herself.

Emily Catherine Clingman's children all share her bright green eyes and freckles. We have the same crow's feet she did because our eyes squint when we laugh just like hers did. And just like our mother, our lives are full of deep belly laughs that end in tears and live in our cheek's muscles and abs the next morning. Emily loved comedy and irony. She has inside jokes with everyone she's ever known. To laugh with our mother was to be loved by her.

Our mother's greatest legacy is the love she gave. The strength of the love she had to give is evidenced in the love her children have for each other. We had no question about our mother's love for us. She reminded us daily in letters, texts, small gifts that she knew we cherish, and the reminder to be proud of how hard you are trying.

There is no way to condense a life that was so beautiful and full into so few words. Our mother was beloved by many. She held friendships from childhood, was a mentor to young writers, an advocate for women breaking into business, a role model to young women and girls.

Emily wished us to have no formal funeral services. In her honor, you can donate to or volunteer at your local women's shelter. Emily's professional writing legacy was precluded by her advocacy for women. As she once told her daughter “I burned bras so you could fly” Emily's children will organize a celebration of life at a later date.

Our mother was fourth in the line of matriarchs. Preceded by her great grandmothers, Hedwig and Josephine, grandmother, Henrietta - a beloved member of the Polish community in Flint, who passed just shy of her 100th birthday, her mother, Cindy - who gave Emily her passion for literature. She is followed by her daughter, Rebecca - a writer, artist, and activist for women's and indigenous communities, and her granddaughter, Anastasia- who at only 8 has inherited Emily's wit and voracious curiosity to learn, and unfortunately for Rebecca, her solid debate skills.

Our mother can be remembered in fiery sunsets, in the lull of lapping waves,, or the trickle of rivers. Her softness can be found in the leaves of ferns and moss in the undergrowth. You can smell our mother the scent of the cherry blossom blooming in spring and hear her the gentle alarm of birdsong in the morning.

Emily is survived in life by her three children: Rebecca, Joshua (Stephanie), Austin and her one grandchild, Anastasia. Along with her children Emily has four siblings, her mother and father, 16 aunts and uncles, and 35 cousins with 34 of their own children.