Eulogy for Maureen McNulty, 27 April 2006
Thanks, Uncle Bill. Good morning. Show of hands -- how many of you ever saw one of Mom's shows? Wow. Well, Mom loved a good audience, and you all are the best audience we could have hoped for this morning. Thank you.
I also just want to especially thank the eighth grade from Trinity and Kathy Barnhart for you beautiful singing of the "Dona Nobis" -- I know it made Mom very happy.
On behalf of the family, we’d like to thank each of you for honoring my Mom, Maureen McNulty, with your presence here today. We’d also like to thank the parish of St. Hugh for welcoming us, as they have for the past 35 years. It’s nice to be home.
Here today with me are her children Tom, Liz, Mark & Meg, her brother Bill Tobin, her grandchildren, family, friends, colleagues and so many of her students. Many of us also honored my father on another beautiful morning. In 1993, we welcomed Dad into the arms of a loving God. It’s fitting that we gather here to do the same for my mother.
Maureen McNulty was born into a loving Catholic family in upper Manhattan on April 23, 1937, and left us on her birthday, Sunday morning, April 23. [I think I just told you how old she was. Sorry. Mom.]
During her life, the world saw World War II, the Second Vatican Council, JFK, the moon landing, and the Internet. Likewise, the rise of artists such as Graham Greene, Frank Sinatra, and perhaps most important for Mom, Rodgers and Hammerstein.
Mom graduated from Marymount College in 1959. A pioneer for professional women, she earned a scholarship to St. John’s University Law School. She joined the Law Review, and passed the NY bar in 1963, a time when women seldom achieved such heights of education. While at St. John’s, she met my father, Bill McNulty, and the two were married in July 1963. At a time when terms like “glass ceiling” hadn’t yet been coined, she could earn more as a teacher.
However, for nearly fifteen years, she stayed at home with us to care for the family – both here in Greenlawn and at the beach out in Laurel. Although Mom wasn’t born there, she came to love it as one of her favorite places, where the land curves to meet the sea, and the sky. Fittingly, it’s not far from where we’ll lay mom to rest today, alongside my dad.
When we all entered St. Hugh of Lincoln School, she joined the staff, here and later at Trinity Regional, for nearly 30 years. She was a self described “professional Catholic” whose devotion to her faith inspired so many of us. But it was through her teaching, and her loving guidance of so many plays, that many of us here today came to know her.
In his life, Jesus left many legacies – as prophet, as shepherd, as Savior. But today I think that its important to consider Christ’s legacy as a teacher. For centuries, the person of Jesus Christ poses the enduring challenge of humanity and divinity. Since Jesus was both truly God and truly man, how can we follow in His footsteps to bring the divine into our everyday? For Mom, she answered that question in her calling as a teacher.
My Mom once said that the challenge of teaching lies in the fact that so much of its impact is seen not in the classroom, but in the future. Much as Christ’s legacy was carried forward by his church. In my mom’s case, we her family and students honor her legacy by how we carry her lessons forward.
One small detail tells volumes about my Mom. When my daughter, Devin, was still quite young, Mom decided that when we visited, serving Devin breakfast in bed would be her little gift, and she continued that tradition for nearly ten years. Earlier this year, not long before Mom’s last trip to the hospital, when she was already so wearied by her illnesses, I woke early on Saturday morning in Greenlawn. I heard my Mom, rummaging around in the kitchen to make breakfast for her granddaughter. It would be the last time she had the strength to do it, and I will never forget that.
Mom was also very human. She was caring, challenging, stubborn, impulsive, brilliant. She relished a good argument. And she was tough, as the gift of her final years showed us. Andrew Greeley once noted that it is the curse of Irish women to act stronger than they truly are. In the end, she was beautiful in her humanity.
How then, can we remember Mom? I think we reveal ourselves more in our small everyday choices than in the grand plans of our lives. So, when you see a play, think of Mom. When you’re at the beach, think of Mom. Think of her when you make breakfast in bed. Most of all, when you think of strength, think of Mom.
I also just want to especially thank the eighth grade from Trinity and Kathy Barnhart for you beautiful singing of the "Dona Nobis" -- I know it made Mom very happy.
On behalf of the family, we’d like to thank each of you for honoring my Mom, Maureen McNulty, with your presence here today. We’d also like to thank the parish of St. Hugh for welcoming us, as they have for the past 35 years. It’s nice to be home.
Here today with me are her children Tom, Liz, Mark & Meg, her brother Bill Tobin, her grandchildren, family, friends, colleagues and so many of her students. Many of us also honored my father on another beautiful morning. In 1993, we welcomed Dad into the arms of a loving God. It’s fitting that we gather here to do the same for my mother.
Maureen McNulty was born into a loving Catholic family in upper Manhattan on April 23, 1937, and left us on her birthday, Sunday morning, April 23. [I think I just told you how old she was. Sorry. Mom.]
During her life, the world saw World War II, the Second Vatican Council, JFK, the moon landing, and the Internet. Likewise, the rise of artists such as Graham Greene, Frank Sinatra, and perhaps most important for Mom, Rodgers and Hammerstein.
Mom graduated from Marymount College in 1959. A pioneer for professional women, she earned a scholarship to St. John’s University Law School. She joined the Law Review, and passed the NY bar in 1963, a time when women seldom achieved such heights of education. While at St. John’s, she met my father, Bill McNulty, and the two were married in July 1963. At a time when terms like “glass ceiling” hadn’t yet been coined, she could earn more as a teacher.
However, for nearly fifteen years, she stayed at home with us to care for the family – both here in Greenlawn and at the beach out in Laurel. Although Mom wasn’t born there, she came to love it as one of her favorite places, where the land curves to meet the sea, and the sky. Fittingly, it’s not far from where we’ll lay mom to rest today, alongside my dad.
When we all entered St. Hugh of Lincoln School, she joined the staff, here and later at Trinity Regional, for nearly 30 years. She was a self described “professional Catholic” whose devotion to her faith inspired so many of us. But it was through her teaching, and her loving guidance of so many plays, that many of us here today came to know her.
In his life, Jesus left many legacies – as prophet, as shepherd, as Savior. But today I think that its important to consider Christ’s legacy as a teacher. For centuries, the person of Jesus Christ poses the enduring challenge of humanity and divinity. Since Jesus was both truly God and truly man, how can we follow in His footsteps to bring the divine into our everyday? For Mom, she answered that question in her calling as a teacher.
My Mom once said that the challenge of teaching lies in the fact that so much of its impact is seen not in the classroom, but in the future. Much as Christ’s legacy was carried forward by his church. In my mom’s case, we her family and students honor her legacy by how we carry her lessons forward.
One small detail tells volumes about my Mom. When my daughter, Devin, was still quite young, Mom decided that when we visited, serving Devin breakfast in bed would be her little gift, and she continued that tradition for nearly ten years. Earlier this year, not long before Mom’s last trip to the hospital, when she was already so wearied by her illnesses, I woke early on Saturday morning in Greenlawn. I heard my Mom, rummaging around in the kitchen to make breakfast for her granddaughter. It would be the last time she had the strength to do it, and I will never forget that.
Mom was also very human. She was caring, challenging, stubborn, impulsive, brilliant. She relished a good argument. And she was tough, as the gift of her final years showed us. Andrew Greeley once noted that it is the curse of Irish women to act stronger than they truly are. In the end, she was beautiful in her humanity.
How then, can we remember Mom? I think we reveal ourselves more in our small everyday choices than in the grand plans of our lives. So, when you see a play, think of Mom. When you’re at the beach, think of Mom. Think of her when you make breakfast in bed. Most of all, when you think of strength, think of Mom.
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