Ruth McGovern, beloved wife of James McGovern, mother of Vonnie, Ruth, and Kathleen, grandmother to Jim, Dan, Tom, Kate, Betsy, Peggy, Mary, and Patsy, and great-grandmother to Brandon, Brandy, Caitlyn, Emma, Michael, McKenzie, and James, died Tuesday morning at home. She was the hub of our wheel, the heart of our family. She was ninety-nine.
She grew up poor. Her parents worked in the Biddeford mills, and there was little money for luxury of any kind. Her grandmother, Bridget O’Leary of Cork, took her under her wing and gave her extra love and attention just when she needed it most. She had a fine singing voice and especially loved to sing solos at Christmas Eve Midnight Mass. She proved a brilliant student and graduated at the top of her class from Biddeford High School. She went on to study business, and took a job as a secretary at the Metropolitan Insurance Company right out of school.
She loved the work, and she loved having a little “fun money” to indulge her love of costume jewelry, purchased on her lunch hour from the shops in Biddeford. It was there that she met my grandfather, James McGovern. He captured her attention from the moment they met, but the relationship took a slow, easy pace for a long while, with kind words exchanged in the elevator and glances at the door. At last, he invited her to attend a formal function for the Company, and she was delighted to accept. The love that began then lasted the rest of her life. Though he died nearly fifty years ago, she was always proud to be called “Mrs. James McGovern.”
She was a resourceful, determined person, and after her husband died, she began a long career as a legal secretary. Her last employer, Mr. Eddie Carron of Saco, adored her. In a lovely twist of the usual etiquette, he referred to her as “Mrs. McGovern” and she called him, affectionately, “Eddie.” She was famous for her efficiency and devotion to her work right up until she retired for good at the age of 87.
She was a great lover of animals, and a succession of small, lucky dogs lived with her through the years. She loved music and jokes and stories, and still sang some of the songs her parents had brought home from the mill. She was a tremendous cook, and all of us in her family grow misty over her turkey soup, her pudding pie, and the excellent gravy she whipped up every year, as though by magic. (I will always imagine her on Thanksgiving morning, a poodle under one arm, and a small vial of Gravy Master in the other hand – a maestro ready to take charge). She spent many happy Saturday nights with her daughter Vonnie and son-in-law, Dickie, at Lord’s restaurant in Wells where she was considered something of a celebrity and treated with wonderful affection and deference.
Her life spanned nearly a century, and the changes she witnessed were both dizzying and interesting to her. Like many older people, she showed an ability to adapt to change that was delightful and surprising. When Gregory and I got married on a hillside overlooking the Saco River, our family worried that Mazy (as we called her) would be upset that the wedding was not held in the Catholic Church. But just days later a note arrived that dispelled this fear. “I am still mooning over your lovely romantic wedding,” she wrote. She was at heart a romantic person, even in a life so marked by necessity and practicality and bearing up.
Ruth McGovern was a woman of great soul, humor, and wisdom. She was loved deeply, and we will miss her.
Kate Chadbourne
20 May 2008
(A version of this was read very skillfully by Uncle Dick at Mazy’s funeral on Wednesday. It was a beautiful occasion and many people came to pay tribute to this great lady. It was a special joy for me to play a slow air on the Irish flute which I’d made for Mazy three years ago at Christmas, titled very simply, “Ruthie McGovern.”)
