An Interview with Aunt Mary
“If you can only say one prayer, say thank you.”
My Aunt Mary, much like her children’s Aunt Mary, who was my grandmother, is a wonderful woman, and despite our age gap, one of S. and I’s favorite people, with whom we correspond with regularly by mail.
While I am predominantly agnostic, and she is deeply committed in her faith, we have mostly shared values, as I always looked to the women of my mother’s generation for guidance in how to “make something” of myself, to paraphrase the Lucius song.
The below interview is a view into her intellectual and spiritual world.
Mark: You raised eleven kids, all of whom are distinctly individual adults, how did you encourage each of them to grow into themselves? Unlike the woman in the shoe, you seem to have “known what to do…”
Mary: I just let them be themselves. They pretty much had to be independent from an early age, we didn't have much money, so they mostly had to earn their own. They all had jobs from an early age. They had to pay college tuition and most went to graduate school. Two chose to go straight to work and not to go to college. And they are very successful. I said lots of prayers.
Mark: You are a woman of keen intellect, what first ignited your interest in learning, and what keeps you interested today?
Mary: I think my interest in learning came mostly after I got married. Before that I was fooling around a lot. Today I like to read about different subjects. I have learned a lot from my children.
Mark: What are some of your favorite books?
Mary: I like the classics and memoirs. I like Tolstoy especially. I like religious books especially Bishop Barron and Matthew Kelly whose books are instructive. I like Alexander McCall Smith and Mary Sullivan.
Mark: You have an unfailingly kind and gentle nature. How do you process anger or disappointment so as to remain true to that practice?
Mary: I believe God works all things out to good to those who love Him. (Romans 8:28)
Mark: What do you enjoy doing most on an average day?
Mary: Crawling into bed at night. I like going to Daily Mass.
Mark: Could you explain the significance of the tulip on the back of any envelope you send?
Mary: It is my logo. It stands for acceptance with joy.
Mark: Could you elaborate on “acceptance with joy?” I’ve thought about what I think it means a great deal, but what does it specifically mean to you, and when did you adopt it as a mantra?
Mary: Acceptance with joy to me means to be thankful for whatever happens to me, good and bad. I started using it a long time ago, probably 50 years ago. I read in a book by Hahhah Hurnard entitled Mountains of Spices.
Mark: Faith and the rituals of faith feel like a central and sustaining force in your life. You were raised in the “Cunningham” Catholic tradition, but what made your faith become central in your adult life? Was there a “burning bush” moment, or did the central philosophies of “loving the stranger” and “being of service”just speak to you as you came of age?
Mary: Rituals are fine and have their place, but the important thing is to have a personal relationship with Jesus. I think my "burning bush,” as you call it, was when I was baptized in the Holy Spirit around 60 years ago.
Mark: As perhaps a secondary concern, what place does ritual have for you? The practice of moving through the liturgy daily must be a grounding experience against the hurly-burly of day to day life.
Mary: I think ritual is important because it helps us to enforce our faith. Also, man is a social being and we need to pray as a community.
Mark: You and your siblings have always had a great sense of humor. Even a serious writer you enjoy, Bishop Barron, seems to have a good sense of humor about the human experience. Your Dad was funny in a more quiet way, but your Mom was boisterously humorous, and had such command of the English language—do you think that you and your siblings were drawn to comic framing as a way of understanding the world because of their example?
Mary: Yes, probably.
Mark: Do you listen to music at home? Is there an artist you enjoy your grandchildren would find surprising?
Mary: Usually it is very quiet here. I only watch the 5 o'clock news and turn it off after the weather report. That is all. I like Bob Dylan and Harry Belafonte.
Mark: When I was small, you asked me if I agreed with Thoreau that “most men live lives of quiet desperation…” You seem to mostly dwell in quiet joy, does that come from a practice of gratitude? Is that one key to “acceptance with joy?”
Mary: Markie, I can't believe you remember that!
Yes, I think being thankful for everything we have is the key. If you can only say one prayer, say thank you.
Mark: Your response to my long winded question about your excellent sense of humor reminded me of your Father’s economical call to the local plumber many years ago, when he simply said “Chisholm, toilet,” and hung up. My mother thought your Dad was very wise, and he died when I was fairly young, so I wondered if you could share a few moments with your Dad you remember fondly?
Mary: Memories of my father: I remember him kneeling beside his bed and praying every morning after he got dressed and before he went downstairs.
I remember him walking home from church every Sunday with me, Paula and John, and he asked us math facts all the way.
I remember swimming with him and him playing baseball with us after supper in the good weather and playing hearts with us in the winter.
I remember him sitting in the library in his favorite chair reading and even after he died I expected to come home and see him there.
I remember taking long walks with him, even once to Boston.
Mark: Your mother was one of my favorite people, so I similarly wonder what moments with her, or particular turns of phrase, you remember most fondly?
Mary: This sums up my mother, but there were so many more like this. I could go on. I had decided to move into the maid's room after she left. So we were fixing it up. We went to Boston to go shopping. I saw a bedspread that I wanted for my new room but my mother said we couldn't get it because my father was in the business and sold bedspreads. So we went home but she knew I was disappointed.
The next day before I was even up, she had taken the train to Boston and bought the bedspread.
My mother and father were both very generous.
Mark: Your mother wrote a book of Zoo-themed poetry I used to love to read, called “Cagey Views.” Do you personally have a favorite animal?
Mary: I used to like animals a lot but now at ninety-two my favorite is stuffed.
Mark: I recently corresponded with a writer on Substack who told me that Mary Sullivan, your namesake daughter, was her favorite teacher at Harvard. Do you have a favorite among her books? Her latest book in verse,“High,” is mine.
Mary: When Mary was young, maybe around 10, we took a trip to Nantucket and she wrote a book with illustrations and another one about our family. Those two are my favorites.
Mark: You are blessed to live near the ocean. And as much as I love Chicago, I agree with Dad’s sentiment that Lake Michigan, and the Chicago River are terrific, but don’t have the salt or “je ne sais quoi” of the ocean. What is it about the ocean that is so delightful?
Mary: The beauty of it, the smell of it; it changes everyday, and you can swim in it.
Mark: You are a steadfast woman of few vices, speeding on the highway and that one chocolate bar you unwittingly smuggled out of the A&P aside, did you have a rebellious period at any point?
Mary: No, I don't think so. Maybe a little.
Mark: If you could convey one message to your large cohort of grandchildren and great-grandchildren about what is most important in life, what would that message be?
Mary: To love and forgive and to love one another is what I think is the most important thing in life.