Walter Hughes, Ottawa

Mary Lou was my big sister and my godmother. I am her baby brother and godson.

Mary Lou was a meticulous and intelligent child who became valedictorian of her high school. She was the first in our family to attend university, earning a science degree in biology from UNB-Fredericton and working summers to finance her education. After graduating, she went to work in a medical lab in Saint John and later in Halifax. Eventually, she became a lab instructor at a college. It was rare for women in the 1960s to have a career – in science no less.

She met Terry McCluskey at the Newman Centre, where college students went to meet other Catholics. Terry liked Mary Lou’s spaghetti sauce and saw her as a great jive dancing partner. Mary Lou liked Terry because he was funny and because he brought her along in social gatherings where she might be shy. They married in 1963, and moved to Sydney, Cape Breton, where Terry was offered a job as instructor at the Coast Guard College that was just starting up. They lived on the base until the fourth child was on the way. Then they bought a house with land for their children to run around. Family life was good.

After their last child started school, Mary Lou returned to the workforce. She joined the academic staff of the College of Cape Breton. Mary Lou was at the forefront of women moving back into the labour force after completing a family.

In 1969, with the closure of the coal mines and the steel mill, a long-term economic depression fell upon Cape Breton. Over the next three decades, Cape Breton lost a quarter of its population. It was mostly the young people who left, the best and the brightest among them – including the McCluskey children.

Mary Lou fell into a depression. She lost her confidence and her cocky smile. Mary Lou consulted a psychiatrist and was initially misdiagnosed with bipolar disorder. As we now know, this was not unusual at the time. Women were flooding into the labour market and facing sexism. Many discussed this with their doctor and were given a Valium prescription. What they needed instead was the feminist movement.

Mary Lou’s medical prescription was too strong, ineffective, and required frequent change. Depending on her current prescription, Mary Lou oscillated between sleeping a great deal or living in panic. Years later, a different psychiatrist correctly diagnosed Mary Lou’s health issue as social phobia and prescribed a medication which was lighter on her system. The results appeared quickly. I told her that she was like Rip Van Winkle, rousing after a decades-long sleep.

During her illness, Terry took on greater family responsibilities while working full-time. He was chief cook, cheerleader, and compass for the kids. Mary Lou eventually went on permanent disability after work difficulties.

Religion was always the center of Mary Lou’s life through good times and bad. She was always Roman Catholic, but she worked on building a more mature relationship with God. She sought something more spirited, more rational, and more loving. Mary Lou joined the Third Order of St. Francis. That is a lay order for Catholics who vowed to live out the Gospel in their secular lives. She taught me the Prayer of St. Francis.

Later Mary Lou joined the Charismatic Movement, attended prayer meetings, and walked hand in hand with the Lord. In her fifties, she took university-level courses in philosophy and theology. She earned her second degree – a B. A. in Religious Education.

In their late seventies, life brought on more challenges. In 2014, Terry was diagnosed with Parkinson’s; he had already been that way for a while. Now, Mary Lou was caring for Terry, making decisions for the two of them. It was time to acknowledge that they could not do it by themselves. Mary Lou looked for a place to live where Terry and she could receive care and comfort within their budget. This resulted in a move to Saint John.

In her final eleven years, Mary Lou would move nine times.

Terry’s Parkinson’s grew worse. He had fallen and broken his shoulder in Sydney. In Saint John, he fell and broke his hip. Terry’s sister Sharon took on responsibility for him and I took on the care of Mary Lou. Terry moved into a nursing home, and Mary Lou, into an apartment next door. That took months to arrange. Much had changed. They no longer played bridge together, read books together, or had meals together. Mary Lou felt as if she was already a widow.

Without her Terry’s singing and joking, Mary Lou withdrew into her needlework.

Terry passed away. Mary Lou moved into a two-bedroom apartment The second room was for her needlework equipment and materials. She was good at her craft, making beautiful pieces for members of the family. Each piece was crafted in contemplation of its intended recipient. It was her way of making them present.

Mary Lou also hired domestic help. Brianna was funny and came twice a week to help with groceries and clean-up.

Mary Lou’s eldest son, Seumas, lives in Saint John. He would look in on her every Sunday for an hour. Eventually, they started meeting up at Sunday Mass. This was a happier time for Mary Lou.

Towards the end of her life, Mary Lou was still giving me – her godson – lessons in spirituality. Once, she pulled out a prayer card and read it out to me. The prayer asked for patience and the ability to forgive.

In the Spring of 2024, she visited our home in Ottawa. She pulled out another card, one printed for Terry’s funeral. On the card was a meditation on the prayer: “God bless you.” When she and I were growing up, our family said this prayer multiple times each day. “Goodnight and God bless!” “Goodbye and God bless you.” Or a simple “Bless you” after a sneeze. Would you say this with me now? Let us say Good-bye to Mary Lou together. Mary Lou, Goodbye and God bless you.