Eulogy for Peg Douglas: March 23, 1928-April 1, 2012

Peggy Manley Douglas was born in New York City on March 23, 1928 to May and Michael Manley. She was 100% Irish.

She was the eldest of three—Peg, Michael and Eileen, who has now officially been promoted to matriarch.

Mom was a member of St. Patrick’s parish and the Bay Shore community for 81 years.

My mother gave birth to ten children, and lost one, Kathleen, shortly after her birth. She considered Kathleen to be our guardian angel.

With my father, she built and kept a beautiful home where they raised nine children. I recently asked Mom whether she and my father talked much about their plan for children before marriage. When looking for property on which to build a house, she told me, they looked at a piece of property on Lanier Lane that backed onto a lake. She told my father she didn’t think it was a good choice “in case they had children.” And that was the extent of their prenuptial conversations about the incredible, large, healthy family to come. Being a mother was a huge part of my mother’s life. And even though she would jokingly say, “Who would I give back?” she was immensely proud of her brood, and our brood of 23 grandchildren, and their growing brood which now numbers 10.

When I called one of my Bay Shore friends to tell her about Mom’s passing, she said, “I can’t believe it, your mother was such a fixture—she was larger than life.”

I like to think of her as a force of nature. She was physically strong, beautiful, stubborn, independent and gregarious. She touched many, many lives. At 83 she was still being approached in Bay Shore stores by friends of her kids saying, “Hi Mrs. Douglas!” Even in the rehab center at Our Lady of Consolation a few weeks ago, a fellow patient called out from her wheelchair across the room in physical therapy, “Aren’t you Peggy Douglas?” Although my mother didn’t know her, the woman recognized her from her work years ago as a volunteer in the Southside Hospital gift shop.

My mother had a large cohort of first cousins in Ireland, England and the U.S., and several second cousins are here today. She had a wide circle of new and life-long friends from Seton Hall High School, the Bay Shore post office, volunteer work for Southside Hospital, her work at First National Bank, our neighborhood, Bay Shore Yacht Club, the Hibernians and through many more connections. After my father passed away, she met an old schoolmate at a high school reunion, Tom Fox, and they became loving companions and confidantes until the day she died. One of her newest friends is Sister Catherine, her roommate from Our Lady of Consolation—and we’re so glad you are with us here today.

Like I said, Mom was a force of nature. Part of her vast personal legacy was her determination to continue to live and to thrive. Any day now she was going to get back on her exercise bike. If any of us pointed out that she might not, she would say, “Watch me.” I think in her mind, she was still 45 and strong. She was always young in spirit and refused to believe she was 84.

My mother was a force of nature and she was a woman of contradictions.

She often said, “I don’t want to be a burden to you children,” or “I don’t want to bother the kids.” But in one of my last conversations as we were getting ready to say goodbye she said, “When you hang up, call Michael and tell him to bring me a chocolate milk shake from McDonalds when he comes by tomorrow.” She was very good at giving orders.

My mother never lost her appetite—for chocolate, or for life.

We were incredibly blessed to have her for so long, and to know she was so well-loved as a vital part of many communities and circles of friends. My siblings, our families and aunt Eileen thank you for coming today to help us celebrate Mom and lay her to rest.