For My Baby Sister
My sister Teresa is the little girl on the left, to the right is our cousin Marie.
Terri died in the early hours of December 8th 2018 two days before her 56th birthday. On January 12th, we had a small private memorial service with only our siblings families, and first cousins present, at the site of my dad's grave where the ashes of our niece Angel are also buried. In the spring my brother Patrick will bury her ashes, some at Dad's grave, some at our brother Martin's grave. Our dad would approve of the celebration of life for her we had at The Burg Tavern and grill following the rite. Tom and I ended up planning and "officiating" at the rite. Following is the Eulogy of sorts I spoke for my sister.
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In death Teresa Joann Doyle, (Terri Jo) joins our dad “Bub” (Andrew), her Irish twin Martin Daniel born in February 9th of the same year, and our beloved niece Angel Duffy Doyle . Mom named her Terri Jo after a brave strong 11 year old little girl from Wisconsin, Terry Jo Duperrault, who had survived a great ordeal at sea the year before Terri was born
Terri was born 11 years my junior. When Mom and dad brought her home from the hospital I thought she was the most beautiful baby I’d ever seen with her rich dark curls, an apricot blush to her cheeks, long lush dark lashes that fluttered like little butterflies when she opened her dark dancing eyes. She was so alert and observant even then for one so new to the wonders of the world. I remember what it felt like when I held that bundle in my arms. I promised to love her forever. As a teenager I often dragged her with me to concerts, libraries and riding the buses in Dubuque. I loved spending time with her even at a time when many older siblings don’t want to be followed around.
Terri was a complicated, multifaceted woman. She was born a bright, independent child who had a mind of her own, she was very stubborn at times. Her arguments with the “status quo” and theological debates began at an early age. As a preschooler during the stations of the cross on Good Friday when the priest announced “Jesus is dead.” she yelled at our parish priest “Him is NOT dead!”
Terri had a deep infectious laugh that I will truly miss. Her beautiful soprano voice was a gift others enjoyed very much. Terri was able to find joy in all the small things, and others shared in her joy.
Terri loved her family deeply and passionately, especially her nieces and nephews, her mother and her father. She had an intuitive and and educated understanding of children with special needs and served several families in recent years caring for their children. She and our brother Patrick had a very special relationship, more a friendship than that of a sibling.
When Terri was a teenager she began to suffer from depression. She struggled with this for the rest of her life but in spite of that she succeeded in some major accomplishments. She was an author who wrote a memoir several years ago after obtaining Master’s Degrees in both Theology and Counseling. At the time of her death she was working on a Christmas novel set in a community like Shullsburg. How she loved her hometown and those of Irish descent who lived there. On her blog she often wrote about her love of Shullsburg and the Irish Catholic Spirituality that characterized so many of the people she knew there.
Terri was a poet and a student of poetry. Her love of poetry came from our father who often spoke in poetic prose, and from our mother who recited frequently a wealth of poems she had commended to memory.
Once several years ago I had the privilege of hearing them recite together, one of their favorite poems by Emily Dickinson.
I’m nobody, who are you?
Are you nobody too?
Then there’s a pair of us.
Don’t tell! They’d advertise you know.
How dreary to be somebody!
How public like a frog
To tell one’s name the livelong June
To an admiring bog.
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Terri was a poet. One of my favorites of the poems she wrote is this:
Earth Day 4/22/17 Colorado
~for our Dad who asked me to finish my education so that I would look at trees differently.
Today I drove to the mountains
With my dad.
A need to experience earth away from my life, I put him in the front seat of my car,
He smiled to say as I drove out of McDonald’s with a Diet Coke
“And away we go!”
Something he proclaimed on our great adventures. This day
We found the old green of pines
Who have lived as witnesses of the pristine,
Their dark green the color of his St. Paddy’s Day shirt that hangs in my closet,
A remnant of his joy. The old green lined up on the side of the mountain
Like a forest of Christmas Trees,
He was a Christmas Catholic like me,
Not just one day a year, and we don’t find hope in plastic, it’s
A way of making others feel special that’s what he did,
He gave green
Teresa Doyle 4/22/17
And now dear Terri Jo, we bid you safe journey on the adventure in which you have embarked, “Away You Go!”
I close now with an Irish Blessing I found that reminded me of Terri’s and Dad’s joy:
REMEMBERED JOY
I could not stay another day,
To love, to laugh, to work, to play,
Tasks left undone must stay that way.
And if my parting has left a void
Then fill it with remembered joy.
We will remember you in joy, always at home in my heart. Goodbye Baby Sister.