Joan B. Hart, age 91, passed away on December 27, 2020 in Albuquerque, NM. She was born in Amherst, MA on February 12, 1929 to John S. and Lucy A. (Toms) Bailey.
Joan graduated from Lake Erie College in 1951. She married Wilber L. Hart Jr. on August 24, 1957. Together they had three daughters Sandra (1959), Julia (1962), and Shelly (1966). The whole family moved to Albuquerque, NM in 1968.
Joan was an accomplished Cytotechnician. She also volunteered at the Natural History Museum for over 20 years. Joan had many other hobbies including being a part of the Daughters of the American Revolution (DAR) and did genealogy in her free time. She was an avid quilter, and this was a very important part of her life. She loved spending time outside, bird watching, and going on road trips with her family and friends. Joan was an amazing cook and passed it down to her daughters and grandchildren.
Joan is survived by her daughters, Sandra J. Marfor, Julia A. Hart, Shelly J. Hart; grandsons, Michael D. Dorr Jr, Joseph L. Cocchia; granddaughter, Lavender B. Corazon; great grandsons, Michael D. Dorr III, Maximus J. C. Saiz; great granddaughter, McKenzie D. Dorr; and cousin, Mary J. Giffin.
Relatives who preceded her in death are her mother, Lucy A. (Toms) Bailey and father, John S. Bailey; her husband, Wilbur L. Hart Jr.; Aunt, Esther B. Giffin; sister, Marilyn R. Hatfield; and grandson, Sylvan H. Pickle.
"I love you, vip, I love you, vop, I love you more than a pig loves slop"
Do not stand by my grave and weep,
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am a thousand glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awake in the mornings hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circling flight,
I am the soft starlight at night.
Do stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there, I did not die.
“If I should die, and leave you here awhile
Be not like others sore undone, who keep
Long vigils by the silent dust and weep.
For my sake, turn again to life, and smile,
Nerving thy heart and trembling hand to do
Something to comfort weaker hearts than thine.
Complete these dear unfinished tasks of mine,
And I, perchance, may therein comfort you!”
― Mary Lee Hall
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