An Irish Heart, A Mother’s Soul

Raising five kids and managing a household of seven was no small task — but my mom was always up for the job. While my dad might have been the CEO of our family, our mom was definitely the COO. Nothing really happened without her. And with seven people in the house, a lot happened.

She filled the house with the smell of eggs and bacon on Saturday mornings, and rib roasts or lamb on Sundays. And for those of us rebels who refused to eat seafood on Fridays, Mom always came to the rescue with peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Honestly, that might’ve been the only time she offered a Plan B at mealtime! Thanksgiving and Christmas were full-blown feasts. No one ever left her kitchen hungry.

She also gave us a deep love for the beach. From Memorial Day to Labor Day, there was no question where we’d be — at the beach. The car was always packed by 10 a.m. — sandwiches, sodas, snacks, and a bunch of kids. We stayed all day, and sometimes even into the evening for dinner or Mass in Point Lookout.

When we weren’t at the beach, Mom was running Merrick Taxi — that’s what she called herself. She was constantly shuttling us to birthday parties, sports, 4-H, den meetings, school stuff — you name it. And when she finally caught her breath, you’d find her on her bed with her four daughters around her, watching Days of Our Lives. And don’t even think about interrupting her while she read the New York Post. She loved the gossip on Page Six right up until the very end.

Now, she ran a tight ship. “Excuse me,” “please,” and “thank you” were not optional — they were expected. And don’t get me started on thank-you notes. She was on a mission with those. If you got a gift, you wrote the note — immediately. And if you tried to hit the snooze button and hold up the morning routine? She sent in the law: Dad.

But Mom didn’t just care about good manners — she cared about respect. In her mind, if you wanted to get it, you had to give it. And she taught us to be grateful for what we had.

When we were grown and out of the house, Mom didn’t slow down — she just turned that care outward. She volunteered at church, visiting the elderly and delivering meals. She never lost her love of children, either. She watched over Christina and later her grandson Daniel, and when I asked her why, she simply said, “I love these little munchkins.” She loved being “Nana Banana.”

As a kid, I thought Dad was Superman. But as life unfolded, it was my mom who taught us what real strength looked like. She faced every trial and tribulation — from Deb’s open-heart surgery, to losing Katie on 9/11, losing Dad way too early, to her own health battles — with faith, determination, and grit. She refused to be broken.

Her faith wasn’t loud — it was steady. She rarely missed Mass, even during illness, and she showed her faith more in what she did than what she said. After my dad passed, she picked up her volunteer work again at Moore Hospital. She never wanted the spotlight, but she always made sure others felt seen — especially on birthdays, holidays, graduations, and religious milestones. She loved making people feel special.

One of the moments I’ll never forget came a few days after Katie’s funeral. I was the last one at the house, packing my car for the long drive back to Florida. I couldn’t find my parents to say goodbye, and eventually I found them lying in the corner on the floor of the den with the lights off — Mom holding Dad while he sobbed. She was helping him absorb the unimaginable. I closed the door and left them in peace. I drove home that day with a much deeper understanding of the words "in good times and bad."

A year later, during what was supposed to be routine surgery, we almost lost her. The priest was called in for last rites. But true to form, she pulled a Lazarus — walked out of Mercy Hospital after months in a coma. Then came major stomach surgery. The night before, I asked her if she was scared of dying. She said, “I don’t want to die, but it’s in God’s hands.” She was totally at peace — ready to battle, but trusting in her faith.

And she did battle. Ten hours on the table. Afterward, her stomach looked like a pirate map. But she took it all on with faith, strength, and determination.

After Dad died in 2007, she faced life alone — not by choice, but with courage. When her own heart problems came, she hit the gym. Pressed forward. Doctors gave her months — she took years. Where did that strength come from?

She could be fiery. I’ll never forget bringing a priest into her hospital room for anointing of the sick. She looked up and said, “No, no, no, no, no! Not dying today. You can leave. Thanks.” Then pointed at me: “And you knock it off!” What could I say?

Even the week she passed, she took 25 steps — with two fractured hips and only two chambers of her heart working.

Mom never wanted to be a burden. She was always focused on everyone else. She was servant leadership personified.

She was a proud mother, grandmother, and a proud Irish Brooklyn girl.

In the end, what I’ll carry with me most is a deep appreciation for all the sacrifices my Mom made — so many of them quiet, unseen, and never asked to be acknowledged.

She gave me life, and then spent hers pouring love, time, energy, and faith into making sure I knew how to live it well.

Her strength was not loud, but steady. Her pride was not boastful, but deeply rooted in who she was and where she came from. She was determined to face every challenge with grace and grit — and she did.

I miss her every day, and I always will. But I take comfort in knowing that her spirit, her lessons, and her love are forever a part of me. She was my mother — and what a mother she was.

May the road rise with you. May the wind always be at your back. May the sun shine warm upon your face, And rains fall soft on your fields. And until we meet again, May God hold you in the palm of his hand.

Peace & Love,

Patrick McGarry

May 10, 2025

Ponte Vedra Beach, Florida

I share this story to celebrate the memory of my Mom and also to express gratitude towards my incredible wife who continues to be an amazing Mom to our two sons.