Eulogy by Martin Farricker Jr.
Oct. 16, 2018 at St. James Parish, Woodbridge, NJ

My mom devoted every moment of her life to caring for others.
She was the most selfless, caring, compassionate person I ever knew … and I never knew anyone who didn’t love her.
Her musical voice filled our home with joy.
Her voice was the first sound I can remember hearing…and the sound of her voice made me love life.
For me, it meant I was cared for, safe, and loved…in a way that was unconditional and eternal.
Some of my earliest memories are from our home on Willry Street in Woodbridge when I’d wake up in the morning and the first sound I’d hear was her beautiful Boston accent talking to my grandmother about all the things she wanted to do that day to take care of our family.
When I was very young, our back yard would fill each day with kids from the neighborhood who’d flock to our home. I think they came to our house because they felt welcome…and could sense my Mom’s love.
They didn’t call her “Mrs. Farricker”. They all called her “Marty’s mother”.
They’d yell, “Marty’s Mother, I scraped my knee!” … “Marty’s Mother, can I have a drink?”, and she’d say “Of causs, deah!”, and she’d take care of them.
When we got older, all of our friends would come over to play ping pong in the back yard…and my Mom would bring drinks and snacks to everyone, humming and singing in her own special way.
When my brother was a teen … his friends made our house their second home…laughing in the kitchen, cavorting in the basement, and shooting baskets in the driveway.
She made everyone who came into our home feel happy in a way that was uniquely hers.
Our home was always filled with Uncles, Aunts, Cousins, and friends who’d gather around the table, laughing, eating my mom’s delicious cooking, and telling jokes … and my Mom’s beautiful voice was the theme song.
But what I will always cherish most is how my Mom expressed her love to me.
She had great integrity…an inner strength that continued to guide me when I got older and started making some bad decisions.
Every day she would ask me about what I did that day, and when I tried to give her a short answer, she would press me to share every detail about my experiences.
I can hear her voice now, asking who I was with, what I was doing, and where I was going…always making sure I wasn’t getting into too much trouble or putting myself in real danger.
Some might say she was a “nosy Irish mother”…but she truly cared about me…and she was this way with everyone she loved. She wanted to share in all the little things. She wanted to know who I talked to, how I felt, what I hoped for, and … most importantly… what I planned to accomplish that day.
She gave me great advice along the way. When I was making a poor judgment, she’s say, “Ah you shaw that’s a good idea?”…and she’d suggest a wiser path.
If it wasn’t for her persistence, I don’t think I ever would have made it through school. …or been the kind of man that my wife Vicky would have ever chosen as her husband. 
It was her values and hard work that set the example I would follow for the rest of my life.
But she didn’t do this just for me. She was this way with my Dad, my brother, and my sister… never thinking about herself and always putting others first.
When she was a little girl growing up in Boston, she took care of her mother after my grandfather left them alone when she was just 13. And she took care of her until the day my grandmother died … right in the bedroom next to hers in our home on Willry Street … with my Mom at her side.
She and my grandmother shared a special relationship…and they were always together...
Each morning my Mom would run over to my Grandmother’s place in Avenel and bring her back to our house. They’d spend each day in our kitchen, talking endlessly about the family, about shopping, and all of their plans for the day … while my Mom cleaned and cooked and tended to our every need.
But my Mom’s greatest devotion in life was to my Dad. He was the center of her life in every way…and for 60 years her love for him never wavered.
My Mom was devoted to my Dad in the deepest, most heartfelt of ways.
She was always by his side in everything he did.
They met through my Auntie Ann when my Mom was only 17, and she was working as a fashion model for Bergdorff Goodman in NY.
My Dad was 21 and had just come home from Korea where was fighting with the Special Forces.
They went out on a date to Coney Island. But my Dad made the mistake of eating corn on the cob and got corn all over his face. So, at first, my Mom didn’t like him … and went back to Boston with her mother.
But a couple years later she got a call from my Auntie Ann…who said she had gotten married and had a baby.
So my mom, now just 20, came to NY to meet them … and she and my Dad, who was now 24, went on another date. That’s when it all began.
After just 3 months of dating, they were married on April 26, 1958 in a little church in Brooklyn.
They spent a humble honeymoon in Lakewood, NJ and got a tiny apartment in Weehawken.
They moved to another little apartment in West New York overlooking the Hudson and the NYC skyline…and I was born three years later.
I watched my mom and dad’s love affair grow…from the time they moved to Willry Street in Woodbridge in 1963 and spent the next 40 joyous years here, raising our family.
They made countless friends who are held dear by our family to this day.
They baptized my brother and sister right here in St. James…and we all received our First Communion and Confirmation here…while my Mom and Dad sat in these very pews.
We had a beautiful life on Willry Street…because my Mom’s love was everywhere.
My Mom was active in the Woodbridge community. For years we’d go to dances at the American Irish Association and to Christmas and Halloween parties at the Woodbridge Elks…and everyone would come over to greet my Mom.
Wherever my Mom went, whether it was camping in the Pennsylvania Dutch Country, traveling across the country in our station wagon, spending time at home with countless friends, my Mom made our lives a joyous experience.
I think people loved my Mom because they knew she would do almost anything for them...and she charmed everyone with her beautiful voice, warm smile, and kind way.
For me… No matter what I asked her to do, she ALWAYS said yes, unconditionally.
When Vicky and I sold our first house in Woodbridge and then found out our new house in Princeton would be delayed for nearly a year, I asked her if we could move back into Willry Street…and she said, “Of causs, deah.”
We moved into her home with three little kids, aged 3, 2, and newborn…practically turning it upside down…as she never complained once. Instead, she helped us in every way she possibly could.
My Mom brought the same joy she shared with us growing up to all nine of her grandchildren…and I know my brother and sister would agree that she was the best grandmother anyone could ever hope for.
I remember how excited she was when her first grandbaby was about to arrive. She decorated a bedroom in her home just like a nursery with crib and toys and pretty curtains … till my brother finally said, “Mom thinks she’s having the baby!”
We spent countless Christmases and birthdays at her home with my brother and my sister and their families…and my mom made every celebration truly special.
On Christmas she would buy everyone beautiful presents that she’d get at great bargains … usually at JC Penney where she worked for 18 years … and where she made great friends in “The Penney Girls”, with whom she remained friends to this day.
Every year on Christmas she would pile a mountain of presents under the tree that she had lovingly wrapped one by one, with great thought and care for each of us.
The kids would go wild unwrapping and throwing paper everywhere. And every year I could always count on her for a new supply of underwear. That’s the kind of person she was. Practical… always thinking about the little things, and making sure we had everything we needed.
After opening presents she’d put a big ham dinner out on the table and we’d have a great feast.
And she did it all very frugally.
One of her favorite sayings was, “A fool and his money are soon pahted.”
My mom never wanted to accept gifts…but she was always giving.
I watched how she cared for my sister when she needed a big operation…
I watched how she cared for friends who took sick, cheering them up even during the tough times.
When she found out she had cancer and would soon die, she didn’t cry or complain. She showed the same inner strength she always did when she said, “There’s no reason to be sad, deah. I’ve had 60 years of utopia with your fahtha. There’s never been an unhappy time…and I’m thankful for that.”
She never complained, even as she suffered in pain during her final weeks…because she didn’t want to burden us with worry.
She even avoided taking painkillers as long as she could because she wanted to be clear-minded, so she could teach my dad everything he’d need to know to take care of their home after she was gone.
As my dad said toward the end, “Mommy taught us how to live … and she taught us how to die … with grace and dignity.”
Every ounce of my mother’s being was about giving to others…and her love will ALWAYS be with us, every day, in everything we do.