Blog nr. 20

Today, August 31st, is a date that remains in this old man's memory bank, for a very good reason. On this date, in 1912, my Mother was born.

My Mom was the first child of Albert Cottet and Helen McCauliffe. Raised as a devout Irish-Catholic, she spent the majority of her life in Syracuse, New York.

Doris (my Mom) married George McLuckie on 3 January,1931 in Syracuse. She had three children: George Jr., Mary Jean and Tom (me). We were raised under very strict rules---number 1 being that if a person isn't Irish-Catholic they are no good.....this is the atmosphere I grew up in. I don't blame my Mom: it was a sign of the times and the way she had been brought up.

For a while, things were okay. But my father ended up leaving Mom, along with Mary Jean and me and filing for divorce. I was 14, Mary Jean was 16 and George was 23, with his own family.
Mom had never worked outside the home, but that ended. She got a job as a teller in a bank in order to support us. She did her best.

When my sister-in-law was tragically killed in a car accident, my brother was left with 3 young children to raise. He told my Mother that if she would help raise his children, she would always have a home and a place to live. (By this time, Mary Jean had married and I had left for the Navy). She agreed, and she took on the task of raising her 3 grand-children.

The grandchildren grew up and when the last one had married, she was quite lost. My brother was going to marry again (a non-Irish-Catholic), whom my Mother detested. She asked me, her youngest son, if she could move in with my family and me in Colorado. I of course said Yes.

Although she had not travelled much during her years, she relocated to Colorado Springs, to reside with me, my wife and 3 small children. But her heart was always in upstate New York.
Although Mom got along with my family and certainly cared for us, she really wanted to be in New York. I did not truely realize this until it was too late.

Mom was always depressed, never leaving the house, no true friends. She had many health problems and basically "gave up". In a coherent moment, she told me she wanted to go to a nursing home. I complied with her wishes, and put her in a nursing home in Colorado Springs.
When we would visit, Mom would tell my daughter she wanted to "go home". I thought home was with us here in Colorado, but it was just recently that I realized that what she wanted was to be in New York. I would bring her from the nursing home back to live with us, but she remained completely unhappy, and without the ability to communicate well, I just didn't realize what it was that she wanted. She said she wanted back in the nursing home.....I again complied.

My Mom died after a few months back in the nursing home. The doctors said it was a fatal heart attack. We buried Mom here in Colorado Springs. She was only 67 years old.......way too young.

Many years later, I finally realized what my Mom wanted---she wanted to be back in New York, where she had been born, raised, grew up, and had her family. Sadly, it was too late.

So this date has special meaning for me......it brings back memories, both good and bad, of my Mom. It is too late for me to say the things I should have said many, many years ago.

I'll say them now.

"Mom, I am so sorry that I didn't realize what was your real issues. I'm sorry for the inattention and frustration that I had with our inability to communicate what was really on our minds. You were always there for your children and with our selfish ideas and our inattention, we neglected you. You raised your family and your oldest son's family to the very best of your ability. We all owe you a debt of gratitude we will never be able to repay. I know you have forgiven us.....that is the way you are. And as long as I have a breath in me, you will be remembered and loved".

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MOM.