On September 10, 1947, in Cleveland, Ohio, Edna Clarkson Henderson and Armstrong Patrick welcomed their daughter, Maureen Sweeney. From her earliest days, she carried with her a sharp wit, a love of books, and an unwavering devotion to family. She was sister to the late Colin Patrick Henderson of Plaistow, NH (with wife Judy) and the late Jeanette Gavlak of Ohio (with husband Ken), both of whom she cherished along with their children.

Maureen  built her life in New England, raising her four children—Bryan Sweeney of Haverhill, MA; Doreen Sweeney (with David Spinney) of Deerfield, NH; Janel Scheick (with Barclay) of East Hampstead, NH; and Sarah Sweeney (with Scott O'Brien) of Manchester, NH. Her love and pride grew as her family expanded to include her many grandchildren— Richard Sweeney, Brett Hebb (95-23), Joshua Sweeney,  Nicole Morrison, Teagan Scheick, Broden Scheick, Samantha O'Brien (with daughter Adaline Maureen), and Scott O'Brien Jr (with daughter Seraphina Ann). She cherished and bragged about them as often as she could.

She raised her children with what the family fondly calls a "firm hand and a loving heart." The wooden spoon was her trusted sidekick—its reputation often did the work before it ever needed to be lifted. Life on her small farm meant there were always chores to do, animals to tend, and, on occasion, mysteries to solve—like the time a missing rabbit was explained years later, in the most casual tone, as having been served for dinner.

Despite working two jobs and raising kids, she never failed to have a hot meal waiting on the table. Cooking was her act of love, even if her children still tease her about her "signature move": seasoning almost any cut of meat with fruit. It was inventive, it was memorable… and, truth be told, it was rarely delicious. But love was always the main ingredient, and that made every meal unforgettable.

Food, in her house, was never wasted. Even if it meant her children sat at the table until every bite was gone—right down to the bowl of cereal, long after the milk had swelled the Cheerios to cartoonish proportions. Although she herself hated vegetables , especially lima beans and would secretly never eat them herself, she always made sure her kids ate them. These moments, sometimes endured with groans and sometimes with laughter, became the family stories retold over and over—the kind that grow funnier with time and remind everyone just how much she cared.

Christmas was her favorite holiday, she loved to fit as many colored lights and silver tinsel on the tree as possible; the tackier the better. She loved shopping online, but hated wrapping. Her kids have fond memories of her baking dozens and dozens of cookies each year to gift out.

Books were her lifelong companions. She was rarely seen without one in hand—first Harlequin Romances, later it was either magazines or tv series on archaeology, flowers, religion, or cooking. Her home was lined with books, each one sentimental. She had worked part-time at Carey' bookstore  and spent several years at Timberlane Regional High School's library before retiring.   For her, books weren't just entertainment—they were her way of sharing knowledge, sharing a story and sharing an experience.

Saturday mornings meant *Jesus Christ Superstar* blasting throughout the house, echoing through every room whether her kids liked it or not. It was her way of waking the house with music, energy, and a little bit of drama—much like the woman herself.

She loved painting, like her father, tending her vegetable gardens, surrounding herself and cooking with her family.

Though her wooden spoon now rests, and the pages of her books lie unturned, her legacy lives on. It lives in every story told at the table, in every sparkle of silver tinsel on the tree, and in the laughter and love of her children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren.

And if you wonder what she's up to now—just picture it. In heaven, she has reorganized everything (no one may find anything anymore but it will certainly create a good scavenger hunt), and food is already  being prepped with love.  Just as on earth, she's surely asking, as soon as anyone appears: "What can I help you find?" and "Did you check the mail?" so there is no doubt about it, heaven now has its very own greeter.

Calling hours for Maureen will be held on Friday, September 5, 2025, from 5 to 7 p.m. at Brookside Chapel & Funeral Home, 116 Main St., Plaistow, NH. Her funeral Mass will be held on Saturday, September 6, 2025 at 10 a.m. in Saint Anne's Church, Emerson Avenue, Hampstead, NH. Donations may be made to the Crohn's and Collitis Foundation.