The godmother
My great-aunt May Regan was a wonderful woman. She was kind and fun and caring.
A good cook, too.
May was also Mom’s godmother.
May grew up on Lombard Street in Fair Haven. In later years, May lived with her brother Pip; together they were like a bonus set of grandparents to us.
On June 12, 1989, Mom presented the eulogy she wrote about her godmother May at her funeral.
Here it is:
In Praise of May
She was our sunshine; there was nobody like her.
She and her beloved brother Pip carried on the tradition of their Irish parents: love and hospitality, service and devotion to God and family. Even from her hospital bed, she would continue to ask whether visitors had coffee and something to eat.
Ninety one? We thought she would live forever, and she does, in our hearts. May lifted us up physically as babies and spiritually ever after as we grew. She remembered everyone’s birthday.
What did she love? May loved music, the piano she played so well. She loved people, especially her surviving brothers Pip and Bill, her sisters Ceil and Marguerite. May loved nature – trees and rocks and flowers – and animals, particularly Donny, her dog (and Pip’s). She enjoyed shopping and giving away to family and friends much of what she bought.
Most of all she loved the Lord whom she received daily in the Holy Eucharist.
What do I remember about growing up with May? May and Bunny and I in bed on some evenings long ago after I had gone to Golden’s Store for penny candy, when May danced for us in her floppy pajamas. Bunny loved her so much she called her doll May.
Still fresh in my mind is going as a young girl to Mass and Communion with May in the mornings, a joy I continue as often as possible.
She traveled by bus from New Haven to West Hartford to take me out for a steak dinner and then home after my first college exams.
She cared for our newborn David and created a special bond with our son who is now a composer, teacher, pianist.
Last night we told our son Bill, a Marine in Hawaii, of May’s death. He remembered how we would bundle our four children into the car to drive to “May’s house for an hour.” He said the time was always more and he was glad of it.
May was particularly fond of a poem of mine called “air”:
air pearl of a moon when the night shell opens how you shine
May herself still shines, here in spirit and, in her new life, like a jewel in the crown of the sky.
More than three decades later, there are two more memories I’d like to share about Mom’s godmother. The first is very solemn. May and Pip had a sister I never met. Her name was Martha.
Martha Rose
Martha was born on May 5, 1899. She was two years younger than May. She followed their oldest sister into religious life. Sister Margaret Miriam was her chosen religious name.
Something happened. It was not a story passed along from generation to generation. I only know that Martha required constant care for the rest of her life. Her family didn’t send her away, instead Gram cared for her and later May and Pip brought their sister to the home they shared in nearby Orange, Connecticut.
When Martha passed away in 1982, a relative praised May for her years of selfless devotion.
“It was an honor to care for her,” May replied, with heartfelt humility.
My other memory of May is her birthday cards. She never missed a birthday and she signed each card with: Hope Mom bakes your favorite cake! We’d check each card on every birthday and it was always there. I don’t know what we would have done if she’d ever left it off!
And yes, just as her godmother hoped, dear Mom always baked us our favorite cake. Even during the month when our family of six had three birthdays in just ten days. During the merry, merry month … of May.
“air” © 1983 Joan Vayo. All rights reserved.
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I loved reading this, Paula! Thanks for writing about Aunt May and sharing the photos. I too loved when our family piled in the car to visit Pip and May’s house in Orange. We’d go on holidays after having our big meal at home. But Aunt May used to make my dad a ham & butter sandwich anyway. My dad loved to eat and a buttered sandwich was a decadence he didn’t get at home. What a special blessing it was for our parents to grow up in Fair Haven with their grandparents and aunts and uncles right there, too. Especially an aunt as loving as May.
I loved the Johnny Appleseed wallpaper in their kitchen! And the Mary Poppins doll downstairs. Isn’t funny what you remember from so long ago?
MAY was so special. We had family picnics and May would arrange games, going to the 5 and dime store for prizes. All the cousins and relatives were there. Good times. May took care of Martha. She was teaching 2nd grade and it sounded like she had a nervous breakdown, and although she got the best of care, they did not have the medications they have now to help. I used go to May’s house with a bag, anything you want to give away to me. She would have liked to be a nun too but stayed to help, at home. She learned to drive standard late in life to get to Mass. Her cat Teddy would try to follow. She had the joy of God always. She and my aunt Helen dressed up as ghosts on Halloween. She played the piano with such feeling. Going to the movies not with candy but jar of green olives. She loved them. Love you, May, for teaching me so much. Bunny