Pete Fitzgerald's Mother Dies At The Age Of 75

Thanks to all of you who have shown your love and support over the past 10 days since Mom's passing. I am posting Mom's eulogy below - I think most of us have some similar family memories.

Three years ago I was up here telling you of dad’s last valentine’s gift of chocolets spelled out on a piece of paper. Three years later, Mom has gone home to her valentine.

Mom grew up in Groveton, NH. Groveton was a small town back then. Mom said that she read every book in the library, some of them twice. She was an avid reader to the end, using her Kindle. She spoke often of going to the movies on Saturday afternoons for a dime at the local theatre.

So it was a big step for mom to move from Groveton to the big city of Burlington to go to the Jeanne Mance School of Nursing.

One of mom’s classmates was Aunt Joan, Dad’s sister. Mom’s date for a school dance stood her up and Joan knew of an available bachelor who needed to get off the farm. The rest, as they say, is history.

Mom and Dad got married in 1958. Once they got married, Grandpa lowered Dad’s salary on the farm from $50 per week to $35 since Mom was working. A couple of years later, they solved that problem by having me, and Mom’s longest career started.

She was welcomed into the Fitzgerald family, and was especially close to Grandpa Fitzgerald.

They started off in an apartment on Mallets Bay Avenue, but after having Mark and Theresa, decided that they needed a home. So they built the house down at the farm, purchasing an acre of land from the neighboring farm.

Our memories of the farm revolve around the kitchen. Aunts and uncles and cousins would gather around that round oak table, that as our family grew to include Matt, Sue, and Maggie, the table grew with 2 different colored leafs. Mom would make apple and pumpkin pies at Thanksgiving and Christmas, and plenty of goulash when us kids and the special nephews were coming in from haying in the summer.

As we grew up, Mom was a sounding board for us kids. We could talk to her about our problems and fears and she would be a reassuring and comforting presence. Whether it was a bump or scrape when we were younger, or problems with spouses or kids as we aged, Mom always listened and reassured us that things would be alright.

Mom welcomed the new family members we brought in as she had been welcomed by Grandpa. Her new “kids” joined around that oak table as the family grew. When the grandkids came along, we expanded to Aunt Corinne’s table and would have two gatherings. It wasn’t always the “adults” and the “kids” tables, although Dad and Mom kept their spots at the old oak table.

In their later years, when Dad was so ill, Mom would not venture far from Dad. Even on the rare occasion where we could convince her to come out without him, she would want to get back home to take care of him.

The proudest memories I have of Mom are how she handled Dad’s passing and the next two years. Mom and Dad put in a new well just before Dad passed, and the higher pressure caused the water pipes to break and leak. Mom arranged for the contractor to come and replace all the pipes for 3 homes and a barn, did all the negotiating, and made all the calls when there were issues.

After Dad’s passing, she was able to reconnect with her nursing school classmates, who met regularly at local restaurants. She really looked forward to those get togethers, and was saddened when she was no longer able to meet with the girls because of her illness last year.

Mom also enjoyed crafts such as knitting, sewing, and plastic canvas. I never learned how to do those things from Mom, but I sure did enjoy the warm mittens and hats she made us as kids. Each of the grandkids’ families had a plastic canvas barn set- she has just finished Ava and Mina’s a few weeks ago, and a couple of the animals need to be finished up. Luckily Theresa learned well from Mom and can finish her work in the next few weeks.

On Sunday we gathered around the old oak table again to reminisce, laugh, talk and eat. And I noticed that we had become our parents, and our kids were gathering, talking and eating around the other table, and the cycle continues. Mom and Dad would be proud.

So now we gather to bid Mom farewell. She’s around the heavenly oak table with Dad, Grandpa and Grandma Fitz, Grammie and Grampie Mac, and all the aunts, uncles, and cousins, making sure that there’s plenty to eat and drink, and quietly serving like she has done for all those years.

Please join us in the church hall after the mass to sit, talk, and eat, and share your memories of Mom, and remember.

I close with a quote from my philosopher nephew, Devin, who three years ago said that Dad was in heaven raking hay and eating apple pie. This time he said that Grandma’s up there making the apple pie for him. Eternal Life can’t get much better than that.