Monica Lynn Goddard

Monica Lynn Goddard, Our Beloved BaWoof, (Oct. 16, 1952-Aug. 21, 2020) Monica Goddard, 67, passed in the early morning of August 21st at Liza’s Place in Wheeling, WV. A self-described “eccentric”, Mom, never seemed to meet a child or a dog she couldn’t love. She relished in the awesome beauty of nature and would always stop to appreciate the sunset or autumn leaves. She lived her life in service to others. Thanks to her strong faith in God and the recovery that is possible through Narcotics Anonymous, Monica was able to live a life full of luxuries she never dared to expect. A single mother of two, Mom never let us miss out on the fun things like dance classes or nature camp. She retired from a long career in Addictions Counseling; a career that amazingly took our family on an adventure of a lifetime to the tropical paradise, Saipan. She reunited with her eldest child, Rachel, who has brought love and light into our family. She made her final oblation as an oblate of St. Benedict. And her true crowning jewel, she became a BaWoof. The bond Mom had with her grandchildren was as unique as her title and she described them as her “earthly heart’s delight”. Monica is preceded in death by her parents, Ralph and Genevieve Goddard, her sister Hannelore Schloffel, and many dear friends. She is survived by her sister Merywon Goddard, daughters Katrina (Joshua) Hyde, Aimee Schmalz, and Rachel (Dan) Donovan, her cherished grandchildren Arbor, Irie, Lucas, Abby and Joy, as well as a community of friends and NA family. Wild Fruit, Aimee Schmalz, 3/29/16 Fingers stained purple with wild fruit Who cared the name The lace of my Easter dress caked with summer mud The powder of worn paths dusted my feet My shins Knees skinned from shoeless bike rides to nowhere Every tree climbed My only fear, the dark And what might lurk within it Endless warm days dyed my hair the color of straw My mother’s breast, my home I rode her shoulders high My hands woven in her parted hair I, her Arabian Her, my majestic elephant Safe, though teetering above asphalt I never asked where we’d end up When we’d arrive Who we’d be there A passenger, dozing, counting clouds We sang songs We called the sun out from behind clouds Licked sweet candy from our fingers Laughed Feet kick up on dashes and out windows Picnics on patched grass In my eyes she was god I’d wake with the immediate instinct to find her lap Sitting quietly, following the lines of her face Not knowing what she was writing Not knowing the color of sky just before dawn But she knew She was lifting the looming anvil And all I could see was the sun. If you would like to offer a message of condolence for the family or share a memory of Monica, please visit her Tribute Wall.