A Eulogy for Marylou (Corkum) DeFreitas
2 October 1944 — 12 February 2026
We have all come together today in this sacred space to remember someone we couldn’t forget if we tried! The wacky, the affectionate, the irrepressible Lulu. My mom for the last fifty-seven years, Auntie Lulu to so many of you, beloved friend and kindly presence to everyone she knew.
What do I remember most fondly about my mom? Well, she had her … expressions! Her Momaprops, as I call them.
- She once let me know that a Maxwell House container wasn’t empty by saying: “That coffee’s got coffee in it.”
- She once explained to me, about unshoveled sidewalks in winter, “There’s ice, and there’s frozen ice.”
- She once described a baseball game in logic that would have outfoxed Yogi Berra! “The Red Sox are leading way behind.”
- Mom had a gift for narrative. In the 19th minute of a 25-minute story, Mom would always say, “Now I’m leading up to something!”
- And she’d sign off from almost every phone conversation with a “vaya con Dios!” or a “Love you a bushel and a peck, and a hug around the neck!”
Mom had a practical if somewhat quirky devotion to God! Her short prayers always added a mysterious fourth person to the Holy Family: she’d ask for the help of Jesus, Mary, St Joseph, Mother Machree! I’ll save you the trouble: Mother Machree is not in the Gospel According to Luke, but she was very much in the Gospel According to Lulu! And Mom was on bracingly familiar terms with St Anthony of Padua whom she’d summon with a “Hey, Tony! I need your eyes!” He always found everything that Mom misplaced!
Mom grew up in Somerville in the 1950s of Arthur Godfrey, Bishop Sheen, I Like Ike, and Big Brother Bob Emery. Her family, the Corkum family, lived on the second floor of 7 Laurel Terrace, on the hillside near St Anthony’s Church. Mom was the youngest of four girls: Joan and Ann, Brenda and MaryLou. During Mom’s childhood, she absorbed the rhythms and rituals of a faith that never left her. As a schoolgirl, she learned the prayer to the Guardian Angels, which she never forgot:
Angel of God, my guardian dear,
To whom God’s love commits me here,
Ever this day be at my side,
To light and guard, to rule and guide.
This prayer was palpably consoling to her in her final days, “a balm of Gilead to make the wounded whole,” and readily sprung to her lips, even in moments of confusion and distress.
Mom met Big Tom in her early 20s. I came along in the summer of ’69. And let me just say: Mom will probably be able to bypass Purgatory as she had to deal with us two DeFreitas boys for all those years! We could be a handful! But Mom navigated the duties and delights of motherhood and the ups and downs of marriage with an uncommon grace, a forgiving heart, and a resilient sense of humor.
She loved living here in Arlington. She moved into her apartment at Cusack Terrace in the spring of 2005. Her 21 years in Arlington were mostly marked by serenity, joy, and good cheer.
I thank my cousins and other family members who helped to organize birthday celebrations for Mom: her 75th at Bay Pointe in Quincy, where it seemed that nearly a hundred of us were in attendance! And at her 80th celebration up at Jimmy’s, she was once again surrounded by the love that she herself so effortlessly radiated.
My dear friend Heather looked up “Mother Machree,” just for chuckles. And here’s what she found on Wikipedia: “Mother Machree” is a 1910 American-Irish song with lyrics by Rida Johnson Young and singer Chauncey Olcott. The entry notes that “Machree” comes from an Irish Gaelic phrase meaning “My heart.”
Every sorrow or care
In the dear days gone by
Was made bright by the light
Of the smile in your eye.
Like a candle that’s set
In the window at night,
Your fond love has cheered me
And guided me right.
Sure, I love the dear silver
That shines in your hair,
And the brow that’s all furrowed
And wrinkled with care.
I kiss the dear fingers
So toil-worn for me:
God bless you and keep you,
Mother Machree.
Our dear Lulu, my Mother Machree, surely has entered “the wideness of God’s mercy,” certainly lives in the perpetual light with Aunt Joan, Aunt Ann, Aunt Brenda, and all the good souls who have gone before us. Now, for Mom, “the busy world is hushed, and the fever of life is over, and [her] work is done.” She now fully enjoys the everlasting Love that keeps the sun and stars aglow. And she will always be watching over us, much like an angel, “to light and guard, to rule and guide.”
Thomas DeFreitas 