Mother Mary

It was Nineteen Hundred and Nineteen and many people died - of a thing, frightening thing, called the flu. Mary Rita Hickey - OUR MOTHER - was born into that, it was just about a hundred years ago. At the home on Langley Road in Brighton. She survived, she lived, she became strong. She was proud of her strength. Right through her last days - she remembered her mother-in-law's judgement -Kate said of Mary: "She doesnt have - a lazy bone - in her body."  Proud of that - even these days - as she slowed down.

There was her father Lawrence and her mother Katherine - both born in Ireland - he was a Motor Man on the Boston Elevated Line - she worked as domestic help - brothers John and Lonnie - sister Claire, and I only ever heard Claire call her "sister". All preceding her in death. "I'm  the last" - she'd think out loud as we sat around lately.

A Brighton girl! But she played girls basketball in the West End. She was a jumping center. Her nickname was dynamo. Our Lady of the Presentation school and Brighton High. A bobby soxer. Her mother wouldn’t let her go out or she would have been at Cocoanut Grove the night of the fire. She had an angel.

She worked every kind of job, at a cleaners, health salon, Woolworths in Dudley station taking people's pictures, two shifts, a steno and legal secretary - . finally - for "the biggest maritime lawyer in Boston" on Congress and State Streets. Sitting around here still she would go "Q-W-E-R-T-Y." Worked hard, except for that one time she took a 3 hour lunch break after meeting my father.

It was after the war - 1948. She met my father through a friend - a blind date. They went out over the summer - but it was a whirlwind. At the end of the summer, he was scheduled for, and went out to a job in Hawaii.  The only communication: Letters, telegrams, Chinese pajamas as a gift at Christmas.

He proposed via telegram. She flew to Hawaii. We have one of the Western Union messages from Honolulu:

"ALL THEATRE MARQUEES HERE NOW FEATURING "JOHN LOVES MARY". WAITING WITH OPEN ARMS DEAREST FOR YOUR ARRIVAL.''

They told me Hawaii was a two year honeymoon before they found me in a pineapple tree.

In Racine in Wisconsin my sister was born. My sister was a beautiful person - born with severe birth defects. How my mother and father worked through this, always embraced Kate, and drew Mike and me together into that work, is what made our family what we were.

She had seizures, there were long days and nights at distant hospitals. Kids like that couldn’t go to public schools. My mother and father and the other parents, with great help from the United Way, rented an old school in the country, and when the government grew more enlightened - they took over that operation. My mother took everything with grace.

When my brother arrived - a doctor said we should consider putting Kate in a home. That didn’t happen. My mother took care of her to her last day at 33.

When it was announced that my brother Mike would be born, several doctors and friends suggested to my parents that it would be better to put Kate, now six years old, into a home for mentally challenged children as it would be difficult to raise a “normal” child (big emphasis four fingers on ‘normal’) with an older mentally challenged child in the same house. My parents wouldn’t consider this idea for a moment, the thought of taking Kate out of the home that she knew.

And the rate of survival for children in these special homes was not great.

My parents, with their hard work and great Catholic faith, kept Kate at home and provided everything that Kate and Jack and Mike could possibly need.

After Mike’s graduation from Hingham High in 1978, Mike noted a festive commotion back at the house across the street with “refreshments” before we and aunts and uncles got into cars to go to PJ’s in Scituate for dinner. Mike, riding with Mom and Dad, couldn’t understand the festive commotion as it was always a given that he would finish high school and he now had four years of university in front of him.

My father said to Mike, “You don’t get it! They said you wouldn’t make it through school if we didn’t put Kate in a home! We proved them wrong today!”

My mother took care of Kate morning, noon, and night, seven days a week for almost 34 years. If anything, Kate made her strong enough to last for over 98 years.

They retired to Hingham in 1972.  At the center of that was St. Paul's. My mother met people wherever she went, and people have told me, when they were new to the church here, she was the first one to come over and welcome then. My mother was glad to meet you, and when she met you she was looking to make you a friend. [And if you were Irish, even if it was ten times removed, she'd find that out too.]

People have been very nice, telling us we were good boys to help our ma in the last years. All credit for that goes to my brother Michael. Many nights with little sleep. And even when sleeping listening - does she need water? Does she need a Tylenol? Is she steady? Even close calls meant trips to hospital. Getting out of bed in the morning was a lot of work. He was right there. How could he do other? We recall my mother and father and my sister.

She kept her humor. Once when Mike put her to bed she said "You’re as free as a bird - too bad you don’t have wings."

Humor when you go to the doctors - it is useful. It' hard to hear, and they ask questions:

Are you 114? One asked. No, she said, I am only 113.

Whose the president, one asked. My mother screwed up a very sour looking face, her impression of Pres. Trump.

A couple of things she said:

Tell the truth, and shame the devil.

People think I'm smart but I know better.

I had my looks when I needed them.


I'm going to leave with a song that BB King sang. There has to be a better world - if not here in the hereafter. Instead of pain. We will learn about laughter.There has to be a better world somewhere.

My mother made a better world, in her house and in her heart. She's with John and Kate. She's with her sisters and brothers, with her father and mother. She's an angel! Here's to mother Mary! God bless us everyone. - Jack Vaughan and Michael Vaughan