Margaret Mooney Brulatour, 64, of Richmond, VA, one of the world’s kindest souls, went to rest this past Sunday, January 5, 2019.
Margaret Brulatour, known as Meg, Roarin' Meg, Mommie Dearest, Mother Earth Meg, and Meggles is survived and will be dearly missed by her two daughters, Annie and Mary Brulatour; her siblings Beth Mooney Loy, John Mooney, and Frank Mooney; and her father, Harley Mooney. She was preceded in death by her brother, Tom Mooney and her mother, Mary Mooney.
Meg was the oldest of five kids, an Army brat with no home town to claim, had no love for organized religion, but had a spirituality and connection to all things on her own terms. We know she is now at peace.
Meg approached the world with curiosity, wonder, and her trademark dark sense of humor. She was a writer, a horsewoman, disc jockey, coffee lover, night owl, and a deep empath. You may have enjoyed her eclectic sets on the FM airwaves out of such notable stations as WHFS and WVGO. You may have sat in one of her English classes at Virginia Commonwealth University. She may have cared for your horses, or taught you to ride.
Mom had a rich inner world and taught us the value of enjoying time by oneself. She took joy in being immersed in a great book, a rockin' album for a long drive, a TV detective series, and curating her stunning collection of vintage costume jewelry. That said, as much as she valued her solitude, she was also a lover of language and conversation. Meg was fascinated and amused by the many functions of words. A lot of folks cite her as their favorite person to talk to. She was famous for marathon phone calls. Whenever you thought the conversation was winding down *PING* Meg's incredible mind had other plans and you might as well strap back in for another 45 minutes of banter and belly laughs. We loved Meg because she made us feel seen. She loved us with all our complexities and contradictions. Meg made people comfortable. She had a gift to uplift without saccharine. Earnestness always tempered with the perfectly timed punchline.
Sitting down to write this is so bizarre. Having an English professor for a mother meant that we would go to her with any piece of writing to have her proofread and edit. It was through this process that we found and honed our voices. This short piece feels incomplete without her here to give it the once over. Having the perfect be the enemy of the good was always a stumbling block for Mom. So, we're sending this imperfect piece out into the world knowing that nothing as dreary as an obituary could ever convey our heartbreak and gratitude. No amount of writing could completely represent our mom.
Meg’s life was full to the brim with stories. We'd love any and all memories and photos you may have. You can send them directly to our family's archivist, Annie, at firstname.lastname@example.org
We aren't planning an organized service but if you're so inclined, we thought of a few choice ways to honor Meg's memory:
Brew a pot of coffee and call someone you love.
Adopt a stray.
Order a shot of Cuervo with a Coke back.
Take the trip.
Crank up some Bruce Springsteen and dance around the room.
Get a massage.
Have a Law & Order SVU marathon.
Buy something sparkly.
Write a handwritten letter.
Be incredibly affirming to the people you love.
In lieu of flowers, please consider making a donation in her honor to the American Wild Horse Campaign https://americanwildhorsecampaign.org/ She loved all the pretty horses.