My mother, Claire Marie Woodard Benson was born on September 19th, 1969 to her parents Lonnie and Nancy in Provo, Utah. She was the second of six children in the Woodard family. As a precocious little girl, she loved riding around on her tiny Indian motorcycle and helping her mom take care of her younger brothers. Last Sunday, Claire joined two of her little brothers in heaven.
Most will remember her for her beauty, grace, wit, resilience, tenacity, adventurousness, nurturing, and tenderness. I will remember her for being the most inspired teacher of my life.
Her adventurousness manifested in everything she did. As a teenager she flew planes with her father–I’m told she was a real daddy’s girl, and he instilled a love of adrenaline in her. To Claire, the smell of German cars in a mechanics shop felt like home.
When Claire was 19 years old, she became mommy to Hilary. When she was 23, she became my mommy. When she was 28, she became Rennen’s mommy. When she was 37, she became Daniel’s mommy.
Being one of Claire’s children meant you went on a lot of really long road trips. Usually, these road trips had something to do with racing. I remember one of the trips we made, she and I were driving for three or four days in a large box racing truck, towing a trailer and a rally car behind us. We’d get honks and “rock ons” from people driving alongside us on the highway, and they always seemed surprised to see this adorable petite lady behind the wheel. I was frequently struck with the feeling of awe at my mother being the most unfailingly capable person I knew. She seemed to have command of whatever practical challenge was at hand in her life. She was the best under pressure, the most elegant in crisis.
As an adult she was a trailblazing rally co-driver, calculating and guiding drivers racing through extremely technical terrain. She won national championships in the Sports Car Club of America, California Rally Series, and North American Rally Cup co-driving series. She made countless friends in the rally community along the way, as she did everywhere she went. Rally is one area of her life where she lived her value of empowering other women by inspiring confidence and encouraging them to take risks.
Her professional life embodied all of her best characteristics. As a daycare provider in Los Angeles, Claire won the hearts and trust of every parent and child who came into her home. She loved newborns the very most, but had an incredible knack for getting a dozen three-year-olds to take perfectly synchronized naps. As a racing team manager in Las Vegas, she tenaciously handled the logistics of GT3 class racing teams. As a school bus driver in Seattle, she nurtured every child on her bus, making sure each one was ready for the school day. I remember taking trips to the thrift store to buy coats for the kids on her bus who needed them, and she’d bring spare change for the ones who needed lunch money. As a home caretaker in Provo, she graciously and tirelessly doted on the elderly to ensure their dignity and comfort. She treasured their lives and their memories with them, building warm bonds with each of them. While she worked as a jeweler in Orem, she let her steadfast idealism and tenderness show as she met many young couples, keeping tabs on them over the years to watch their families thrive.
Most important to Claire, though, were her roles as mother, grandmother, wife, sister, daughter, granddaughter, and friend.
She prioritized what she brought to other people’s lives. I can’t think of a time where she didn’t prioritize the needs of others over her own. She gave of herself to make harmony in a very blended and complicated family so that all her girls could be together. She gave of herself until she was worn down, but still she didn’t stop.
My mother was a fierce one. She created a cohesive safety and unity not only for her biological kids, but also for those she adopted and protected along the way. Where she saw a need in any of the kids in her vicinity, she made sure they were taken care of. She stepped in for mothers would couldn’t, and she stepped in for other mothers who had also died too soon. She never once hesitated to take someone in who needed love, no matter how vulnerable they were, no matter how large the possibility of inconvenience to her. She was the ultimate life coach.
Claire suffered an incredible amount of heartbreak, loss, and disappointment over the years, and as much as I’d like to say she was fearless–I remember that she wasn’t. She did fear being alone, she did fear losing, she did fear being without her children, she did fear being powerless to an unfair world. I could say that she never broke down, but that wouldn’t be true either. She felt the weight of the world on her. She had looked darkness right in the eye, and knew what despair felt like. But still, she never stopped loving with incredible vulnerability and tenderness.
She had a sharp sense of humor, which she often used to bring hysterical laughter to her friends through all life’s events, mundane or milestone. Her witty humor brought lightness to everyone who got to know her closely. Even in the darkest moments, she’d sometimes catch you off guard with some side-splitting joke that’d leave you both in tears. Her humor was often what some would consider wildly inappropriate for this church setting, and I loved it.
Claire had a unique skill, talent, and gift of bringing both family and friends together, sometimes even blending the two as one. The look of contentment on her face was brightest when she had all her people sharing a meal she had made, sitting around her outside table in the summer time. She got tremendous gratification from bringing people together, and introducing new friends with laughter.
Part of what it meant to be one of Claire’s daughters was riding on the back of her motorcycle with her. The feeling of being with her on one of her rides was transcendent. It was about intensity, about confidence, about having an insatiable thirst for life, and about living wholly in the moment. She loved riding so she could take in the sights and smells of the world uncaged and unfiltered. She loved the smell of the passing fields, the smell of summer rain on hot pavement, and the smell of racing fuel.
She had no hesitation in seeking adventure, nor did she hold back from nurturing and loving with a vulnerable heart, because she knew the cost of loving and living fully was worthwhile. She did not fear death, though she lost so many loved ones closest to her. She told a number of people verbatim that this is the way she’d want to go–no lingering sickness, no fear, no pain.
The multitudes of people who love her dearly should take peace in knowing she left this world doing what she loved and with a thrill, at the happiest and the most fulfilled point in her life. Her life, in its final months, had come together so beautifully. She had her daughters all living in one place, she had a new grandson, she had a wonderful companion and husband, she had her family over for summertime dinners, she got to ride in her Porsche with style and on her Ducati with speed.
Claire was preceded in death by her brothers Lincoln and Michael, and so many others who touched her life for good. She is survived by:
-Both of her parents
-Her siblings Lori, Geoff, and Joel
-Her own children Hilary, Amelia, Rennen, and Daniel
-Her grandson Jameson
-Her adopted and stepchildren Taylor, Courtney, Carter, Caden, and Chloe
-Countless others cherished her
And last but certainly not least, she is survived by her loving husband Karl.
Karl– when you entered my mother’s life, you gave us both a tremendous gift. The day you got married, I felt such incredible hope and trust that you would hold her heart and all she is sacred. Karl, you didn’t disappoint. You gave her the kind of companionship she deserved. You brought her so much laughter and so much peace. With all I am, I thank you for making her last moments the most beautiful.
