More Thoughts About Aunt Teresa Jonas

To All,
Our cousin Jane Jonas Williams sent me this letter to share with all of you on the family blog. As you can see, it was a letter written to her mother, Teresa McCorry Jonas, on her 90th birthday. It was among the memories shared by her family at the graveside service held for her on June 27th, following her death on June 4th. I hope you enjoy it. I hope you are all safe and well-protected from the coronavirus.

Sincerely,

Robert Mullins


Mother,

As we celebrate your 90th birthday, we celebrate you as our mother; all that that means; all that you gave to us and on our behalf, and all that you taught us. It is difficult to tease out all that this is, really, it is all wrapped up in love; the love you had for your children, and the love we have for you.

Bud and Teresa Jonas

So what does mother mean?

You were the ultimate homemaker and for a family of 12, that is one amazing undertaking. As “the general” you multi-tasked through each day making sure there were clothes to wear, school lunches made, dinner on the table, rides to activities, and a clean and organized home to return to. For 40 plus years you picked up the pieces every day and moved forward. That is strength. That is love.

You made lots with little. All done with the child in mind so we knew there was something just a little special about what we had (“this belonged to grandma Jonas,”, “I made this for your older brother, Aunt Eleanor brought this from Peru”) There were smocked frocks, first-day-of-school outfits, creative costumes, school projects, special birthday cakes and meals, and one-of-a-kind wedding dresses. You knew the good fabric by touch. And knitting too: a multitude of skating socks, slippers, and mittens with strings so that we’d not lose the match. Afghans for all.

That is resourceful. That is love.

McCorry children with spouses and Great Grandma McCorry

You were similarly capable in the kitchen. Some of the best meals were when you cleaned out the fridge for a Saturday lunch or when you’d cook up a mix of leftover veggies or meat served over rice or noodles. You honed your craft over the years with the basics: baking powder biscuits, clover-leaf rolls, fan coffee cake, pie crusts, sunshine cake, cakes with marbles, goopy frosting, and coconut, streusel and fan coffee cakes, and of course your bread, warm with peanut butter, sweet with butter and honey, or as the base for a left-over turkey sandwich, BLT, or one of dad’s fried burgers with a thick slice of raw onion. Can’t forget pork roasts with brown potatoes, Irish stew, and good gravy.

Aunt Teresa with John and Anna Borden

Picking up the house, sweeping the bathroom and down the stairs, washing the windows with
ammonia, pinning cloth about the broom to dust the high spots, pulling out the furniture to clean behind- and don’t forget to dust the moulding, washing the floor on hands and knees and never with rubber gloves, polishing silverware, doing the dishes (with or without a dishwasher), sweeping the kitchen floor every single evening, and Saturday morning cleaning when everyone had a job to do-with a backdrop of the Fab Four, Simon and Garfunkel, or Sound of Music, running clothes through the wringer washer (often while singing) and hanging all on the line to dry.

That is hardworking. That is love.

Aunt Teresa with family at funeral for Sr. Aquinice

I’ll bet the custodian remembered removing the beaters from your fingers for years afterward. Breaking your finger while teeter-tottering with your youngest two or a rib while playing football with some of your boys. Putting on a fresh dress and lipstick each day before dad came home. Making ornaments and elves and Christmas cookies. Waiting at the top of the stairs to see the tree that Santa brought for us. Girls’ rings at 16, new bicycles at 10, wearing a lovelier on your wedding day. Saying the rosary at the start of a car trip followed by sing-along and rounds. Prayers each night, often with special additions that eventually became part of the original. Making us watch PBS because it was good for us. Chatting with a neighbor or friend come to visit, over a cup of tea (or other), bridge night with friends and game-playing with children, volunteering for the FunFest, parish council, meal program, youth group, and scouts. So many memories. So many traditions. So many life lessons taught, learned and lived.

That is tradition. That is love.

Teresa with her first daughter, Tess

You raised your children across more than four decades which is something to consider. You created a loving family and had high expectations for your children and yourself. You gave to each child what they needed at the right time, a little extra attention, some words of support and encouragement and offered advice to guide us down the right path. You accomplished so much and that is evident in each and every one of your children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren.

That is love. That is mother.