Donna Marie Mattingly

Donna Marie Mattingly spent 77 years on this earth loving her family, learning, teaching, beachcombing where possible, and tending a garden that stopped neighbors in their tracks. She loved life, her grands and great-grands in particular, feeding guests to her home, and a lifelong pursuit of small adventures.

Teaching was her passion, whether it was as a grandma teaching a kid about making cookies or planting flowers, as a special education teacher first at Montessori at Seven Hills, St. Joseph's Orphanage and Cincinnati Public Schools, and then as a trainer for TSA who traveled around the country. She was once a jeweler at IB Goodman in downtown Cincinnati, setting diamonds, casting injection molds, and making rings. She made copper enamel items with botanical decorations, mixing metal with soft surface design. She had a gift for window design and arrangements, having been a florist for years, even owning her own shop on Calhoun Street called Mattingly's Campus Florist.

She gave the gift of beauty. She made a mean rosemary focaccia and delicious chocolate chunk cookies. She baked bread on cold nights and shared it with anyone who stopped by. More than a few summers, the margarita blender was in full swing every weekend. Her door was always open.

Those who knew Donna will remember her for her laugh, frozen margaritas, thick milkshakes (and pink cows!), and the magic she made decorating her house with inflatable dragons, Munchkinland signs, and her custom wreaths and floral arrangements gifted to anyone who asked (or looked at one too long). She loved hosting people and making simple things beautiful, from a vase of flowers to a birthday gift given in sparkly ribbon. She believed every child deserves to feel special, and birthdays should be a production, even if that means modestly, with simple gifts wrapped in sharp-creased, bright paper, topped with the fullest of fancy, hand-tied bows. She gave what she had, sharing it with those around her.

She made magic.

And she was perpetually late. She was picky about food, and sent things back to the kitchen the first go 'round almost every time, especially if there was a bloody mary involved (more horseradish). When she found something delicious, she'd take everyone, either together or one at a time, to enjoy it. She'd carry out a few orders and bring it to a family meal. She had specific taste and high standards, and she shared discoveries.

Donna loved to travel. She loved it most shared with a friend or family, but would go on her own if the urge struck her when no one else was up for it. During the pandemic she took a solo roadtrip to Sanibel, her favorite beach town. Her favorite place was Hawai'i, and she always wanted to go back. The beach at sunrise was her happy place, combing for shells and treasures dug up from the sand. Go if you have the chance. She taught us to be fearless (just take the trip; it's okay to fly alone).

She taught us little tricks to make things hit different (vanilla extract added to your milkshake, fresh herbs in bread, only real butter), and stories shared are the best with laughter. Always try what you want to try, no matter how scary it seems. Speak up when you need to, but know the value in quiet. Ask a gardener first before you help yourself to her flowerbed, she'll probably share with you. If you can't read or your eyes are tired, ask someone to read to you; there's nothing better. Call to check in. Just because. Share your life with a dog at least once; they'll change the way you move through the world. Go for long walks—they're good for the soul. Plant an herb garden. Send flowers to a friend. Give your favorite books away, get new copies, give them away again. Go see some art, and don't forget to remember you're worthy of love. Say I love you if you feel it. Don't wait.

I love you.

Here’s to stories about fae and goblins and slipping between worlds, befriending dragons, finding adventure in ordinary places, a life lived fiercely, and cheese on everything.