"You lead a very interesting life,

and it's all your fault."

Catherine Cummings

When loved ones pass away, it is never easy, no matter how old or the reason. This past September my 92-year-old mom finished up her time here on earth, something we always knew wasn't too far away, but still unexpected.

Her legacy includes seven surviving children, and a lifetime of service and dedication.

This Weblog is not a sad story about my mom, but rather the kind of story she would enjoy.

While she was alive, every Wednesday during a visit to her apartment, I would actually read that week's Weblog to her, and she enjoyed most of them.

My friend Gary says that when he reads this every week, he can hear me say the words, and my mom literally did too. I have not cancelled her subscription.

Telling this story is something that I debated internally for four months, but something happened to bring closure to my mind, my heart, and my spirit, and I thought it was time to share. 

I recently had the experience of a lifetime that capped a lifetime, and I had the unique opportunity to honor a final wish for my mom, a world-class mother. But let’s start at the beginning.

My mom was raised by “Uncle” and “Auntie” when her parents couldn’t afford to take care of her.  Joseph and Louise Cummings were the personification of love, and our son is named after Uncle.

My mom and dad were married in 1950, and sure enough, the next year I arrived in the world with little fanfare. As a First Lieutenant in the United States Army, my dad was in Germany as part of the force occupying that country during the Nuremberg War Trials. 

After a year or so of single parenting, my mom and I joined Edward Ambrose Doherty in Germany, and were there long enough for my sister Joanne to be born there.

That accounts for two of the eight Doherty Children, with Kathy, Brian, Sheila, Susan, Paul, and Chris to follow. For more than 70 years, answering to “Ma” and “Mom” she persevered as a parent, through good times and bad. I answered to the name 'Jimmy' as a kid, and always to my mom.

For almost 40 years, she did double duty as “Nana” with four grandchildren, Joe, Curtis, Shannon and Ryanne. Along the way, she and my dad split, and instead of going back to her maiden name, she changed her last name to ‘Cummings’ in honor of Uncle and Auntie.

For more than 92 years she lived life on her terms. In recent years she still lived in her own apartment, with daily wellness/social/cleaning/shopping visits from one or more of the five children who lived close enough to connect, until September of last year when her condition took a turn for the worse and she wrapped things up in hospice at South Shore Hospital.

As the oldest, I was assigned the task of delivering the eulogy at her wake, an assignment and challenge that I did not relish and had ‘let this pass from me’ thoughts. But I knew that I needed to deliver for my brothers and sisters, not to mention my mom, who expected me to rise to the occasion. 

I only had a few days, no directives from my late mom, and no experience. So, I did what I try to do in those pressure situations: I prayed and hoped that I could deliver a eulogy with two criteria: with mom watching, I wanted her to be proud, and I didn’t want to be a buzzkill at her service.

I know, I know, by its very nature, a wake is a buzzkill. But I decided that I wanted people to smile during the eulogy. You may say to yourself that eulogies aren’t really a good subject for the Wednesday Weblog, and you’d be right. But since this is going in my upcoming book, dedicated to my mom and dad, you can read it here first.

On behalf of my brothers and sisters, who contributed to what follows, meet the legacy of my world class mother. 

This Weblog ends with how one of her final wishes was fulfilled, which brought some closure to my mind, my heart, and my spirit.

We’d like to share some things you may not know about our World Class Mother, so that you may leave here with insight into her legacy.

She was a World Class Philosopher:

Our mother could be profound on purpose, but accidentally as well. One of her quotes was: “You lead a very, very interesting life, and it’s all your fault.”

She was a World Class Host:

She had a full house, but one time took in a sister’s friend who had no place to live. At Thanksgiving, we had friends, or students, or friends of friends: that kind of house.

She was a World Class Duct Taper:

She used duct tape to fix almost everything and wasn’t limited to the traditional gray, but also was fond of black tape and an occasional roll of blue. When she transitioned to a walker, and we had to duct tape the edges of carpets in her apartment so her walker wouldn’t catch. I think she liked the look. We used black.

She was a World Class Early Bird:

If you were picking her up, she’d be waiting 30 minutes in advance. And if you were late by more than 5 minutes, you could be sure to hear: “Where have you been?’ There was, of course, no good explanation.

She was a World Class Seamstress:

She made a lot of our clothes when growing up. She could sew anything.

She was a World Class Coordinator:

Getting a houseful of kids up for school at different times was complicated. Three different schools, 1½ baths. At Howard Street, we mostly slept on the second floor and there were sets of steam pipes that ran through the first floor, one pipe with steam going up and one with steam going down. To wake us up for school, she’d bang on the pipes under the appropriate room alerting us that it was time to rise and shine.

She was a World Class Stocking Stuffer:

She had stockings for kids, grand kids, and others on her mantle at Christmas. After moving from Howard Street, she never had a fireplace, but always had a mantle for the Christmas stockings. She worked on them all year, and once Thanksgiving was over, she hung them in birth order.

She was a World Class Gardener:

Her rock garden in Braintree was a source of pride for her and attracted a lot of attention from the drivers on Howard Street. More than one fender bender took place out front as people slowed down to admire it and weren’t paying attention.

She was a World Class Red Sox Fan:

As you know, she was an early riser and couldn’t stay up for most of the games, so she’d watch Red Sox Classics with games from the past 25 years at 5 am most mornings.

She was a World Class Patriots Fan:

She would have one of us call her to wake her up for a night game. She actually rode a bus to Buffalo for a Patriots game. Buffalo!

She was a World Class School Sports Fan:

She attended a lot of events for the kids from gymnastics to hockey to soccer.

She was a World Class Hockey Mom:

Speaking of hockey, she froze her ass off at Ridge Arena for her sons in the sixties and seventies

She was a World Class Dog Lover:

She loved her dog Bella, who was the center of her world and kept her youthful for years but loved all the family dogs.

She was a World Class Punk Rock Fan: 

Only kidding. A typo

She was a World Class Furniture Mover:

Even at 90+ years old, we’d show up at her apartment and she’d have moved something she shouldn’t have. She used a walker and moved furniture. I know.

She was a World Class Teacher:

Some of her messages were.

·        Good things come to those who wait.

·        You’re going to work the rest of your life pick something you like.

·        Always say what you mean, but you don’t have to be mean when you say it.

·        Be honest, it is easier to remember the truth than a lie

She was a World Class Caregiver:

At the emergency room at South Shore Hospital, because she was there so often with one of the kids, they knew her by name. She’d take stitches out at home. She also gave you a damp facecloth to suck on when you were hurt. Not sure why it helped, but it did.

She was a World Class Nana:

She loved her grandchildren, and self-selected to be known as Nana, after flirting with ‘Grandma.’

She was a World Class Energizer Bunny:

She said: “I wish there was an operation to take some of the ‘go’ out of me and give it to some lazy bastard laying on a couch.”

She was a World Class Mother:

In closing, her spirit still lives on because she lived a very interesting life, and a lot of it was her fault but a lot of it was our fault as well.

Rest In Peace. Jimmy, Joanne, Brian, Sheila, Susan, Paul, Chris & Kathy

The Rest of the Story

A close connected friend was at our house on Christmas Eve Day, and I approached him about assisting with one of my mom’s last wishes: to have some of her ashes spread on the field at Fenway Park. 

So, at the appointed date and time, I connected with my close connected friend, and we walked out to left field, I had the chance to go inside the Green Monster, Left Field Wall. We made small talk and talked about the Red Sox. I realized that neither one of us had done this before and we were making it up as we went along.

I looked over the field, out to where two of my mom’s favorites roamed for the Red Sox, Ted Williams and Carl Yastrzemski. I walked out on the grass, unscrewed the cap on the small urn and let her ashes drift down between the blades of grass, my mom was now forever a part of Fenway Park, as tears proudly streamed from my eyes.

It was done. I expressed my gratitude and that of my siblings, for a favor we can never repay.

I had two assignments from my brothers and sisters after our mom passed: deliver the eulogy and hnor your wishes and spread some of your ashes on the field at Fenway Park. I delivered mom, and I hope you are proud of me. Thanks for living an interesting life.

Catherine Cummings Obituary