Claire R. (Peloquin) Mercier

Claire R. (Peloquin) Mercier, 90, of Westport, wife of the late Henry "Hank" Mercier, passed away peacefully Saturday, September 12, 2020 in her home surrounded by her devoted family. A long-time resident of Westport, Claire had been a caregiver for numerous children and elderly adults.

She leaves four children, Pamela Talbot of Oceanside, CA, Steve Mercier and his wife Jennifer of Dartmouth and Peter Mercier and Paul Mercier, both of Westport; granddaughters, Andrea (Talbot) Toledo and her husband Mark of Long Beach, CA and Stephanie (Talbot) Brizeno and her husband Nick of Vista, CA; great-grandchildren, Dominic and Colin Toledo and Erin Brizeno and many nieces and nephews. She was the sister of the late Robert Peloquin, Arlene LaFrance and Joan Delisle and the daughter of the late Roland and Catherine (McNamara) Peloquin.

Her funeral will be held on Friday 9/18 at 9:00 AM from the Auclair Funeral Home, 690 So. Main St., Fall River with a Funeral Mass at Our Lady of Grace Church at 10am. Burial, Notre Dame Cemetery.

A visitation will be held on Thursday 9/17from 5:00 PM to 8:00 PM. Face coverings and social distancing required. In lieu of flowers, please consider a donation to the Alzheimer's Assn., 309 Waverly Oaks Rd., Waltham, MA 02452. Online condolences at AuclairFuneralHome.com.

My Blanket from God

By Paul Mercier

November 7th, 2013

(Dedicate Henry & Claire...Dad and Mom)

When I was born I was issued a blanket from God.

It was a standard four by four issue, not too big not too small.

Yes my blanket was square.

My blanket looked like those aluminum foil camping blankets you get at Wal-Mart;

You know the type that starts out small and expands as you open it up.

My blanket had a shiny-like mirror finish on it.

When I laughed my blanket laughed back.

When I cried my blanket cried back.

My blanket would take me everywhere…the park, the zoo, and the beach.

I loved the beach. There was nothing like a good blanket.

My blanket had a lot of uses.

I remember I tripped and gashed my knee on a rock.

Crying and bleeding, my blanket flew me to the hospital.

Yes I had a flying blanket.

I remembered my blanket always being there for me when I needed it.

When I got sick at school my blanket picked me up, took me home

And gave me chicken soup.

When Goldie, my pet parakeet, died my blanket buried her in the back yard.

Somehow my blanket sensed it would be too much for me.

Later, when I got older, I was involved in a head on car crash.

I wasn’t hurt and I didn’t call AAA. I just called my blanket.

It picked me up and quietly took me home.

When my blanket saw me shaking after the car crash it instinctively wrapped itself Around me and protected me.

When I moved out of the house my blanket helped me to gather some items.

I remember my blanket packed the items it knew I would need.

When I left the house my blanket cried and I cried back.

A funny thing happened to me.

When I moved out of the house I found myself

Constantly thinking about my blanket.

After all my blanket had given me life.

I told myself I would always take care of my blanket…good and bad, thick and thin.

It’s been four decades since me knee-gash incident and my blanket is getting older now. Sometimes my blanket gets low blood sugar so I am constantly checking on it.

When my blanket forgets I help it to remember.

You know how it is when blankets get older they get tired too, always napping.

I think I look like my blanket, just a little newer.

My blanket is very wise and I find myself asking it many questions.

My blanket doesn’t want an I-phone or an I-pad.

Occasionally my blanket likes Dunkin Donuts coffee…

One medium decaf regular and one dark no sugar.

I get a large black myself.

I don’t know what it’s like not to have a blanket.

If I could I would buy everyone a blanket that does not already have one.

But you can’t buy this blanket. It’s a gift from God.

There is no warranty on my blanket.

If something goes wrong I can’t just bring it back or trade it in.

Your stuck with the blanket you’re given and it’s stuck with you.

I know my blanket will not be around forever.

Thinking about it makes me sad.

Sometimes my blanket recites poems, plays cards and watches television.

What I like most about my blanket is that it makes me laugh.

Often my blanket and I imitate and poke fun at each other.

Every New Year’s Eve we do a group blanket hug at midnight.

I am in my boat now.

Sometimes when it gets cold and windy

I find myself losing my way

And getting blown off course.

But I always look for my blanket.

I see it waving to me onshore.

I wave back.

Its shine is my beacon.

Its warmth is my coat.

Its love … in my heart and I find I am home.