The House Where I Grew Up  / Francis X. (Son)
It looks empty now
but you might hear children
running, chasing, stumbling and laughing, 
up and down the narrow stairs.
                  -or-
the lady of the house singing
"Somewhere Over the Rainbow" or
"The Impossible Dream"
while she works.

From the corner of your eye
you might catch a glimpse
of a young husband
sneaking a kiss
from his blushing young wife
               -or-
you might see a little boy
scampering back to bed
after a Christmas morning peek
while everyone else sleeps.

The smell of Thanksgiving dinner
may linger in the kitchen,
turkey, stuffed with bread
and baked with mother love.
             -or-
day old coffee
reheated in a tin pot
for a work-a-day guy
not too fussy about his morning joe.

You might feel the energy
of six young adults 
pressing the walls,
breaking out,
one by one,
to change the world a little
             -or-
the wings of the spirit Father
whooshing by in the night
to carry his dying son, 
the old soldier,
back home.

Sanctuary, classroom, 
battlefield, playground.

This is the house where I grew up.
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Thank You  / Joe (Son)
Walls that sheltered stand in darkness
Straining to hear the familial sounds
That gave them a reason for being
That turned brick and wood into a home.

Thank you Mom for your gift of life,
For the nurture and guidance you gave.
Your love like a candle that lights my way,
Your laughter echoing softly in my heart. Close

Her Eulogy  / Mary's Family
Mary. Dody. Aunt Dote. Reds. Shieldsy. Babe. Mom. Grandmom.

Whichever name you may have known her by, the soul born as Mary Dolores Shields, and later to become Mary McTamney, beloved wife of Joe, was one beautiful, talented, loving, spiritual, and vibrant being.  She sang like an angel.  She wrote poetry, painted, and drew.  She could have become a well respected artist in any of these fields if not for her love and commitment to her husband, Joe (who adored her for it) and their six extremely lucky children.  She never cared a lick about money, and if you needed it, she would give whatever little she had.  She was medical advisor to many neighbors who would often come to her for advice, even though her official job description was "ward clerk" at St. Mary's hospital.  If anyone suffered any hardship, Dody would be at the front door with food and a shoulder to lean on.  Which brings us to another attribute which will stand out to anyone who has ever been blessed enough to have had Mary in their lives.  She was one tough red headed cookie, and anyone who has unwittingly found themselves in the path of hurricane Dody will attest to this!  But this was no tough facade.  Mary had a deep inner strength based on her love of family and friends, but even more so, on her love and trust in God.  It was this love and trust which carried her through times of grief, tragedy, and illness.  It was this strength born of love and trust in God which will be her legacy to anyone who knew her, but especially her children and grandchildren, who watched in disbelief as she waltzed through heart attack after heart attack, glided her way across cancer, and was happy to do the two step after a crippling stroke.  

Considering a life so full of personal triumphs, grief seems almost out of the question.  The cry of "Victory!" seems more appropriate.  Of course, there aren't really adequate words to portray a whole life, especially a life so filled with depth, love and greatness ...
That book is written on the hearts of everyone who ever knew and loved Mary, and whose lives have surely been made all the better for having known her.

We are all grateful.
God bless you, Dody, as God has blessed us all through you.
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Some Thoughts...  / Joanne (Grandaughter)

As I sit here searching for words I can hear my grandmother's voice chastising me for "wasting" time on this.

And each time my eyes well with tears and my world begins to blur I find clarity anew in imagined thoughts of her questioning the reasons for my sorrow.

She was truely amazing, my grandmother.  She had a vitality and strength of spirit strong enough to sustain us all.  She was fiercely independent, committed to her famliy and her faith, loving, loyal, honest and while ever-cynical, full of joy and a love of life.

She was an inspiration to me.  She was not only my grandmother but on multiple occasions was my confidant, my source of spiritual grounding and above all my friend.

I feel blessed to have had a chance to know my grandmother, and blessed evenmore so because she was a part of my life for twenty seven years.

I can only hope she knew of the impact she had and continues to have on my life.  

And if she would continue to watch over me, I would be forever grateful.

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