99 years, just shy of a century. Can you even imagine?! I'm in awe of everything she would have experienced over those years. Some sad (countless wars, too many deaths of loves ones, including burying two of her own children) and some life changing (I mean, just think of the technology changes she witnessed in that many years?). The life she knew as a child was so very different from that of her children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren. After knowing of all the hard ships she dealt with, I'm embarrassed to think of the things that I worry about on a daily basis. I really have no idea how easy I have it and it saddens me to think of how that is the norm in our world.
Yes, technology has brought us worlds ahead in the last 20+ years, but it makes me sit back and think about what we may be missing out on because of it. Like so many of us, I am prone to "zone out" at night on my iPhone to catch up on what I think is important that day after our little guy goes to bed or likewise in front of the TV. Yes, this blog has been a great way for us to keep our long-distance family up to date on the latest of Parker's world. However, lately I've been wondering if simplifying our life wouldn't be such a bad idea. Get back to the basics and enjoy our time together instead of attached to our electronic devices.
One thing is for sure, reading her obituary has inspired me to change my thought process as well as my priorities. So I'd like to share this beautifully written obituary of my Grandma Caraher just so you can get a glimpse of what a strong, beautiful and inspiring women she was to our family.
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| Marie Caraher 1912-2012 |
**In memory of my loving Grandmother, Marie Caraher.**
Marie Theresa Caraher took over the kitchen in Heaven on February 14, 2012. God awoke on Valentine's Day, smelled Mother's cinnamon rolls, and said, “This is good.” She and God, got up, went to the kitchen and said, “Welcome. I hear they called you the Scrabble Queen on the celestial plane from whence you came. Feel up to a game?”
“Let me put this batch in the oven”, said Mother, “then we can play.” Mother wasn't yet aware of the fact that God has unlimited blanks and the ability to give an opponent unlimited vowels.
Marie was 99 when she died. And she lived every day of those years. She was born in Council Bluffs, Iowa on September 27, 1912 to Tom and Helen Green. Her father died when she was five and her mother gave her up a few years later. She grew up on a farm south of Council Bluffs, Iowa, cared for by her Uncle Chris and Aunt Annie. In spite of the fact that she was the fastest runner in her grade school and excelled at school work, she was not allowed to attend high school; her foster parents could not imagine how education could be useful for a woman….a bitter lesson that Mother never forgot.
So instead of going to high school, Marie milked cows, worked in the hay fields, cooked for thrashers, and spent her teenage years being groomed to be a farmer’s wife. But she never stopped reading. Years later she would reminisce on her childhood: The joy of taking her dog and walking the hilly pastures to fetch the cows for milking.
She married a farmer, Thomas Fenton Caraher in 1932. And, Oh my, what a revelation it was for both of them. They became a couple. Child bride though she was (she was 19, he was 40), Mother was free. And with a man who loved her. Their early years together were spent on a farm south of Council Bluffs. Later, as their family grew, they tried city living in Council Bluffs itself. It didn't take. In 1956 they moved to Jamaica, Iowa, and shortly thereafter to Bayard. A third of their brood of 11 children had flown the nest by then. But there were still seven young boys in the house.
Tom died in 1963. It broke Marie's heart, though she, having known so many hard times, tried never to show it. Someone accused her of not crying at Tom's funeral. Her tears were there; just not shown. Nearly fifty years later, one hopes they're reunited in tears of joy.
Marie remained in the Bayard area until 1994. During that time she did an admirable job of raising sons who were, uh, let's say, a challenge. Subsequently to being known as the Mother of “those boys”. She became known for her singing, her flowers, and her sewing, and (to some) for her Scrabble ruthlessness (“It took you that long to play THAT!”). Though widowed, she reveled in the freedom to try new things (albeit from economic necessity): She was a cook at the Bayard school and a cook at a fraternity (she understood boys) at Iowa State University. But the best job - she loved this job - was as a part time librarian in Scranton. It completed the circle of her lifelong love of reading.
In 1994 Marie moved reluctantly to the Sunbird Golf Resort in Chandler, AZ to live with her daughter
Pauline. (Mother, you're 82. We worry about you being alone in the Iowa winter). They lived on tee box to the 4th hole of the golf course. Marie enjoyed looking down the fairway and pretending it was her back yard. But it wasn't Iowa. And the soil! Bit of heartache there. She finally did manage to produce a wonderful set of flower gardens, again reveling in learning, study, and perseverance. She was shamelessly thankful for things she'd never had before: A dishwasher and an automatic garage door opener.
In her last year, Marie's health deteriorated, yet she remained unbending to conventional wisdom – she still got on the plane and traveled. She became more dependent on others, especially Pauline, and, while grateful, was uncomfortable with becoming a burden.
But she was never heavy. She's our Mother.
Marie was preceded in death by pretty much every one of her peers (99! You rule, Mother!), her parents, her husband, Thomas, her sister Ana Nansel, son James, and daughter, Rosemary King.
She leaves her sister Mae Green behind and nine children missing her: three daughters, Catherine Rahn, Pauline Caraher, and Margaret Larocca; and six sons, Tom, Ed, David, Jerome, Dennis, and Paul. She is survived by 27 grandchildren, 37 great grandchildren and 18 great, great grandchildren.
