Beverly B Maynard

Beverly was born on August 4, 1942 in Portland, Maine to my lovely Grandmother, Irene Duncan Fowles, and spent her entire life in the Northeast. My Grandmother told me a story many years ago. She told me she met the most beautiful baby girl and her name was Beverly Anne. She vowed that if she ever had a daughter she would name her Beverly Anne.

Our Beverly Anne, my Grandmother’s daughter, my mother, my children’s Grandmother was an indomitable spirit. This is my love letter to her - my Beverly Anne, my mother - as I am left to tell you her story. This is the story through my eyes.

Things weren’t always easy for my mom and, I believe, most of the time they were very difficult. Beverly Anne Fowles grew up in a broken home. My Grandmother, Irene, worked hard to care for her children but my mother spent some time in foster care. There was a particular photograph that I remember and I recall that my mother’s ribs were visible because she wasn’t being fed enough. My mother, Beverly Anne, struggled through a difficult childhood and grew into a beautiful, statuesque young woman.

Beverly Anne Fowles became Beverly Anne Braly after meeting and marrying my father, Malcolm Cole Braly, in the late 1960’s. They built a life in the country, living off the land, practicing yoga and raising their only child, Ananda J. Hope Braly. We lived in a cute little house on the way to John Burroughs field and Woodchuck lodge. They had a full life with many great friends but, sadly, it would not last. The marriage dissolved. My father remarried and then, tragically, passed away a few years later. He left me the greatest gift, my sister Miriam.

My mother, Beverly Anne Braly, carried on as a single mother to her only child. As the Beatles so eloquently put it “Oh, I get by with a little help from my friends” and my mother, most definitely, did get by with a little, and often a lot, of help from her friends. For those who knew her, you knew she was a force of nature.

Beverly was innately intelligent, deeply spiritual and loved with ferocity (especially her family and close friends). She was exceptionally opinionated (of course, always right and never, admittedly, wrong), an eloquent writer and an amateur artist. She could be dangerously serious, sometimes funny, had so many big ideas, stand-alone creativity and lastly, especially in my eyes, could do absolutely NO wrong. She was my protector, my guiding light, my beacon in the darkest dark of night, my home base. My mother was, and still is, my everything.

Beverly Braly wore a lot of hats, whether by necessity, in order to support me or, simply, because she had a great idea! Ever idealistic, we tried communal living for a brief time. She would be referred to as an “old hippie” these days but I know my mother believed in a better way forward. The thing I admired (and feared) the most about my mother was her ability to, unapologetically, speak her mind. She was such a force, as previously stated, that I recall consistently being embarrassed by her strength of character. It is my favorite thing about her now and the quality I strive (and wish) to possess.

My mother, Beverly Anne Braly, returned from the communes to that small country town, called Roxbury NY, snuggled in the Catskill mountains and, as previously stated, got by with the help of her friends. She slipped in and out of jobs and side hustles, trying to make ends meet. She stayed with her close friend, Lala, until she could get an apartment for us, working at the library and getting me started at school in Roxbury.

Our lives ebbed and flowed through the years, always surrounded by these wonderful people in this small community. Beverly branched out and became involved with everything from a singles club that helped combat rural loneliness to a cute little health food restaurant, named the Roxy, that she ran with Elaine and Jean. She cleaned houses on the side. She did it all with the help of her friends.

Beverly worked with Arthur on a few of his endeavors. She was the research coordinator for the Ginseng Institute and worked at his real estate company. My mom was able to purchase a house for us - all with a little help from her friends. She went on to become an office manager, newspaper editor, executive assistant and so, so much more.

My mother lived this life with her great, big circle of friends, her mother, her daughter, lots of struggle, plenty of heartache and many, many very good times. She loved music, parties and a dance floor. She loved to learn and was a voracious reader. However, something was missing from her life. After her marriage to my father dissolved she had a blank space. She met James Maynard and they married in the late 1990’s. She had found love again in her mid 50’s. Her wonderful friends kept showing up for her and, also, for me. Through her wedding and, later, mine they banded together and gave of themselves. Bonnie baked stunning cakes, Jean and Jeremiah offered up their gorgeous property, Arthur officiated, Elaine and Eddie assembled the most beautiful flowers I have ever seen. And, as always, a good time was had by all! My mother was blessed with the best of friends.

Beverly Anne Braly became Beverly B. Maynard and so she would remain. Eventually, Beverly and Jim left Roxbury for a farm in East Meredith.

“To plant a garden is to believe in tomorrow” - Audrey Hepburn

So they planted that garden, a huge garden of garlic that became Lion’s Head organic garlic farm (they were both born under the astrological sign of Leo). My mom and Jim combined their big ideas and carried on the tradition of always looking for a better way forward. This would included using recycled vegetable oil from local restaurants to fuel their vehicles. They lived the country life until Jim passed away in 2017 and my mother came home to me.

Beverly B. Maynard spent her last 8 years with me, my husband Don Stanley, our three children Malcolm Joshua, Julianna Catherine and Jack James, as well as many, many 4 legged friends.

“ One morning I woke up and I knew you were really gone A new way, a new day and new eyes to see the dawn Go your way, I’ll go mine and carry on Rejoice, rejoice, we have no choice but to carry on” -Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young

It was my greatest honor and my deepest sorrow to be with her in her final moments and to hold her in my arms for the last time as she moved to her next chapter. I want to thank hospice for all the help leading up to daybreak on the morning of July 10, 2025. If you wish to honor my mother, please consider making a donation to hospice in her name.

“I met my be-bop baby at the union hall. She could dance all night and shake the paint off the wall And we danced like a wave on the ocean” -The Hooters

For those that went before her, I hope you are all dancing together and shaking some paint off the walls once more. For those that are still here, on this earth, I hope you will take the time to celebrate and remember the light and energy that she carried with her. Remember not to be afraid, enjoy this moment and live a life worth living. Live it out loud, be who you want to be, say what you want to say. Live with joy, a smile, a song in your heart and rhythm in your feet because my, one of a kind, mother always would!

Services will be held at a later date. Memorial contributions may be made to Helios Care, Inc., 297 River Street Service Road, Oneonta, NY 13820.

Online condolences may be made by visiting www.bookhoutfuneralhome.com

Arrangements are by the Bookhout Funeral Home, Oneonta.