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aeronca65t
Great Pumpkin
Offline
I lost my Mom, Betty McCabe, last week. January 29.
She died peacefully, in her own home, sleeping next to my Dad . She was 80 (Dad is 84).
We'd known she was fragile for some time.
She had numerous, serious chronic conditions that had slowed her down. But she always had a sort of internal force that seemed to keep her going, no matter how serious the aliments. I guess we all thought she'd live forever.
She and Dad had bus tickets to go to Atlantic City on Feb 3 and she was already planning my youngest brother's 40th birthday at the end of February. And our annual Jersey Shore Summer Vacation with the full family in August.
Her mantra was, "You should always have something to look forward to." She imparted that philosophy to all seven of her children and anyone else who knew her.
I talked to her on the phone the day before we lost her. She said she felt "great". That's what she always said.
The week before, I'd brought my grand daughter and daughter over to see her. She and Dad had great fun watching the baby dance and entertain us all as we sat around eating pizza and talking politics.
She was almost impossibly appealing, optimistic and warm as a person. The word "beloved" comes to mind. The local police sent a bagpiper to her funeral (none of us are cops but she was so active in local schools that she watched a lot of our local cops grow up). Four local towns coordinated with police so that major intersections were manned with officers to make sure her funeral procession was unimpeded (she would have hated that.....she never liked "fusses").
I brought my Dad to his bank a few days after the funeral. The bank manager wept openly when she saw us. And I can assure you, it wasn't because my folks had a lot of money.
She gently guided all of us, including my Dad. When he wanted us to emigrate to Rhodesia, she gently pressed him to choose Canada instead. So my father borrowed Ten Pounds (about $40 US dollars) to pay the fare on a cargo ship going to Toronto. He knew nobody in North America and had no "connections" for a job, but he found work the second day he arrived (and has always been gainfully employed until retirement at age 77). Six months after Dad was in Canada, he sent enough money back to Ireland so that Mom and I could come by plane (on a Lockheed Constellation, by the way). He told me he could have never done any of this without Mom's faith in his success.
Later, when Mom's sister married an American from New Jersey, she convinced Dad that we should head south. And so, with my Canadian-born sister, we pointed an old Dodge south and made it (after numerous break-downs, in a snowstorm) to New Jersey. My five younger brothers were born in the US.
Broken down car stories have always been a part of our family history....maybe the Dodge is where it all started. The day after Mom passed, five of us brothers took Dad to buy a suit. And then out to a local pub for lunch. We took my brother's mini-van. On the way home, one of the rear brakes on the van went on fire. By luck, we pulled into a Sears Hardware parking lot. I ran into the store and made the quickest purchase of a fire extinguisher in history. And then ran out and put out the fire. With three functioning brakes, we started limping home at about 30 mph. Until my daughter called me with a flat tire. So we took a detour and changed her tire.....and then limped home.
Mom would have loved it. She was always kidding us about our old "rotten" cars and our break-down adventures.
Both of my parents grew up poor and left school before the age of 13. Neither lived in homes with electricity in their early years. To say I have humble roots would be an understatement. But both were avid readers and both liked math. Mom gently pressed all seven of her children go to college. And all seven of us ended up with advanced college degrees.
In the end, we are all sad, and we will miss her. But we are OK. At her eulogy, we mostly told funny stories about her. That's what she would have wanted. We were blessed to have her for so long. She created a great childhood for all her kids and we have great memories.
My dear old Dad is OK, but we siblings are taking turns staying with him for now. He lives about 100 miles south of me and I'll probably run down there at least twice a week. I also watch my grand daughter one day a week (another 100 mile trip, one way), so between "regular" work and road warrior duties, I may be a bit busy for the next while. Which is fine with me. As Mom would say, "It's all for the good."
She died peacefully, in her own home, sleeping next to my Dad . She was 80 (Dad is 84).
We'd known she was fragile for some time.
She had numerous, serious chronic conditions that had slowed her down. But she always had a sort of internal force that seemed to keep her going, no matter how serious the aliments. I guess we all thought she'd live forever.
She and Dad had bus tickets to go to Atlantic City on Feb 3 and she was already planning my youngest brother's 40th birthday at the end of February. And our annual Jersey Shore Summer Vacation with the full family in August.
Her mantra was, "You should always have something to look forward to." She imparted that philosophy to all seven of her children and anyone else who knew her.
I talked to her on the phone the day before we lost her. She said she felt "great". That's what she always said.
The week before, I'd brought my grand daughter and daughter over to see her. She and Dad had great fun watching the baby dance and entertain us all as we sat around eating pizza and talking politics.
She was almost impossibly appealing, optimistic and warm as a person. The word "beloved" comes to mind. The local police sent a bagpiper to her funeral (none of us are cops but she was so active in local schools that she watched a lot of our local cops grow up). Four local towns coordinated with police so that major intersections were manned with officers to make sure her funeral procession was unimpeded (she would have hated that.....she never liked "fusses").
I brought my Dad to his bank a few days after the funeral. The bank manager wept openly when she saw us. And I can assure you, it wasn't because my folks had a lot of money.
She gently guided all of us, including my Dad. When he wanted us to emigrate to Rhodesia, she gently pressed him to choose Canada instead. So my father borrowed Ten Pounds (about $40 US dollars) to pay the fare on a cargo ship going to Toronto. He knew nobody in North America and had no "connections" for a job, but he found work the second day he arrived (and has always been gainfully employed until retirement at age 77). Six months after Dad was in Canada, he sent enough money back to Ireland so that Mom and I could come by plane (on a Lockheed Constellation, by the way). He told me he could have never done any of this without Mom's faith in his success.
Later, when Mom's sister married an American from New Jersey, she convinced Dad that we should head south. And so, with my Canadian-born sister, we pointed an old Dodge south and made it (after numerous break-downs, in a snowstorm) to New Jersey. My five younger brothers were born in the US.
Broken down car stories have always been a part of our family history....maybe the Dodge is where it all started. The day after Mom passed, five of us brothers took Dad to buy a suit. And then out to a local pub for lunch. We took my brother's mini-van. On the way home, one of the rear brakes on the van went on fire. By luck, we pulled into a Sears Hardware parking lot. I ran into the store and made the quickest purchase of a fire extinguisher in history. And then ran out and put out the fire. With three functioning brakes, we started limping home at about 30 mph. Until my daughter called me with a flat tire. So we took a detour and changed her tire.....and then limped home.
Mom would have loved it. She was always kidding us about our old "rotten" cars and our break-down adventures.
Both of my parents grew up poor and left school before the age of 13. Neither lived in homes with electricity in their early years. To say I have humble roots would be an understatement. But both were avid readers and both liked math. Mom gently pressed all seven of her children go to college. And all seven of us ended up with advanced college degrees.
In the end, we are all sad, and we will miss her. But we are OK. At her eulogy, we mostly told funny stories about her. That's what she would have wanted. We were blessed to have her for so long. She created a great childhood for all her kids and we have great memories.
My dear old Dad is OK, but we siblings are taking turns staying with him for now. He lives about 100 miles south of me and I'll probably run down there at least twice a week. I also watch my grand daughter one day a week (another 100 mile trip, one way), so between "regular" work and road warrior duties, I may be a bit busy for the next while. Which is fine with me. As Mom would say, "It's all for the good."
