Irish Mrs Brady

I had one of “those” mothers – she wasn’t just my mother – she was the entire neighborhood’s mother – almost ever kid in the school yard called her “mom” – it seems strange now, but it was just normal back then.

I’m not sure what it was about her – she wasn’t the glamorous mother – she wasn’t the mother that used to take us cool places (she didn’t even have a car until I was in high school). She wasn’t the mother that had the cool house or cooked good dinners – she didn’t let us drink at her house or have wild parties but she had an appeal. Most of our school friends referred to her as “Irish Mrs Brady” – the neighborhood kids referred to her as “that nice Irish lady”. She was sweet and kind and her door was always open – if you were having trouble at home, you could stay over – as long as you called your parents to ask if it was okay – many a kid had their “cooling off period” at our house.

I remember a friend in high school, a girl I didn’t even really know that well – she had a blow out with her parents and asked if she could stay over. I said sure and brought her home. My parents were already in bed, so I brought her up to my room and she crashed on the floor. In the morning she woke up and went downstairs to use the bathroom….. she came back up with a look of utter shock. I asked her if she found the bathroom okay – she said “yeah, and some Irish lady asked me if I wanted breakfast” -- I said, “oh good – Mammy’s cooking breakfast”

My friend was shocked – there was no third degree, not even an introduction – just hi honey, want some breakfast? Apparently, she expected my parents to be upset with her or with me – but no, that’s not how they were.

Even now, we have friends that call or visit her around Mother’s Day – some just stop by, some bring flowers… one girl brings a Friendly’s ice-cream cake…. She knows all about Mammy’s sweet tooth.