Marguerite Lamour

With heavy hearts, we say goodbye to Marguerite Lamour, a force of nature and a heart of gold, who left us on March 5th, leaving Ploudalmézeau and all who knew her a little quieter and a lot dimmer. To us, she wasn’t just the formidable mayor or the former deputy; she was Mamie, the woman whose laughter could fill a kitchen, whose hand was always warm, and whose spirit was as indomitable as the Breton coast she loved. Marguerite’s story began right here in Ploudalmézeau in 1956, and she never really left. She was a daughter of this soil, and that deep, abiding love for her hometown was the compass for everything she did. We saw it in the way she’d point out the new bench she’d secured for the square, her eyes twinkling, or how she could recite the family history of half the town. Her family—her devoted husband, her proud children and grandchildren—was her anchor and her joy. Holidays were legendary, filled with the smell of crêpes and the sound of her telling stories, always making sure everyone felt seen and cherished. Her public life was simply her private love made visible. Entering her office was never a formal audience; it was a chat with a neighbor who remembered your name, your parents’ names, and what your grandmother used to grow in her garden. She fought for this community not from a distance, but from within it, with a pragmatism and stubborn kindness that could move mountains. She believed in the dignity of every person and the power of a community to lift each other up. Those late-night council meetings weren’t about politics for her; they were about the future of the children playing in the streets she knew by name. And oh, the joy she found in simple things. A perfect rose from her garden, a walk on the beach at