We honored my mom this weekend. My brothers and I truly wanted the occasion to be a celebration of her life. I think she'd be pleased. There were tears for sure but mainly a celebration of who she was. As I said in her eulogy, her physical presence will be dearly missed, but...
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Mary Lou McCarthy Sullivan
December 17, 1927- December 6,2021
Celebration of Life
April 23, 2022
Good morning. Thank you for coming to celebrate the Mass and
our mother’s life. You knew her as Mary, Mac, Mary Lou, Mrs. Sullivan, Coach,
Auntie and Grammie (and to the Grimes girls, she was Big Lou). To Gary, Brian,
Gerry and I, she was Mom.
At the time I was preparing
these words — a friend of mine unveiled a painting exhibit. She had painted a
series of beautiful flowers including a daisy, a tulip, and a carnation but there
was one painting that really caught my eye. I couldn’t look at it
without thinking about our mother. The painting was titled “Dandelion Once.” I
ordered a print immediately and began to learn as much as possible about the little
flower so that I could better understand the connection. I discovered that the
dandelion and my mom have a great deal in common.
The dandelion is in the
same flower family as the daisy and sunflower. Some people think of it
as a weed because of its ability to thrive almost anywhere—oblivious to whether
people like it or not. It doesn’t
really care what people think. Each yellow blossom is composed of
thousands of flowers ironically called ray flowers. It symbolizes
persistence, strong will, courage, resilience, simple joys, good companions and
new beginnings. Although petite, the dandelion is very sturdy with
an incredibly hardy root system. One author described the dandelion as having
gypsy feet and wrote that “she is quite the traveler.” When the flowers turn to puff balls which are
carried by the wind, 100 plus seeds can travel for miles and plant in the
tiniest amount of soil to begin another life cycle.
Our mom was a strong and
spirited woman. She was a talented athlete and passed on her skills and
knowledge to my brothers—teaching them to skate and handle a hockey stick and
pitch, catch, and hit a baseball. When Gerry wasn’t hitting well and grounding
out frequently, she taught him to bat lefty because she said, with his speed,
he could beat out ground balls easier. Brian played hockey a few years with
Paul Fenton who went on to have a successful pro hockey career. Mom often told
me “Paul was a much better player when Brian was on his line!” As for
Gary, she never tired of praising his smooth skating and skiing styles— a
natural she said. She had a great golf swing and love of the game and all my
brothers do as well. I inherited very little of her athletic
ability, so the day she admired my golf swing and seemed more than mildly
surprised that I could hit the ball straight— I was pretty proud of myself.
She was quite competitive
and managed to turn some rather mundane activities into some kind of
contest—like on her Ireland trips where she was determined to be the first
person on the bus so she could save seats for her group. Gary, not the most
punctual of us, was very thankful for that. My mom sang Brian’s praises because
he was so helpful in herding the group onto the bus on his trip. Gerry’s
initiation occurred at Shannon Airport shortly after landing and he remembers
it as a contact sport. As far as my Ireland trip, I’ll never
forget the sight of my cousins Sheila and Sue chasing the bus down the street
in Cork because my aunt Peggy wasn’t as vigilant as her sister about getting her
group on the bus!
Our mother was an
excellent shopper and saver. We were among the best dressed kids thanks to her trips
to Filene’s Basement, scooping up sales items at Steiger’s, and being first in
line at Marc and Carl’s aka the junk shop. We had a great childhood, due in
large part to that dollar-stretching ability—from our long summer vacations at
Point O’ Woods to skating and skiing gear, team and club memberships and so
much more—we never felt we lacked for anything.
Mom was always on
the go and rarely sat still. Her sister Ellen says that dinner would
barely be eaten and my mother’d be dashing out the door to meet the Nihill
girls and other friends at Van Horn. Then and throughout her life our
mother always had a bevy of friends. In obituary notes that she wrote, she
described them as “a wonderful circle of friends.”
Mom was proud of her
Irish/Catholic roots—she spoke often of her childhood on The Hill where values
of faith, family, friendship and Irish traditions prevailed. She was a life
member of The John Boyle O’Reilly Club. She insisted her winter visits in CA
had to end early in March so she could attend all the St. Patrick’s Day
festivities back here.
Our mom became a widow at
the age of 67. Though she certainly grieved the loss of Dad, she didn’t merely survive
the next 27 years, she thrived. She traveled, she enjoyed the company of
friends, she proudly watched her nine grandchildren grow into adulthood and she
delighted in the arrival of her three great-grandchildren. She honed her
bowling, golf and card game skills and she continued to be among the best
bargain-hunters ever.
Our mother’s nurturing
style can best be described as fierce. She was fiercely loyal, protective, and
proud of her children and grandchildren. As children and as adults if any of us
experienced a lapse in judgement or a misstep in life, she was there to provide
support and encouragement. We could always count on her to be on the sidelines
cheering us on or helping us out when unexpected obstacles got in our way.
Our mother was truly one
of a kind. We will miss her physical presence in our lives. But as surely as the
dandelion endures and thrives, our mother lives on in each of us—and all of
you— in the thousands of moments and memories we shared. And though we will lay
her to rest beside Dad today; she is still here as well—she is everywhere
the wind and her gypsy feet take her. Love
you Mom.
