Theresa L. Moran

Theresa L. (Vallely) Moran, age 95, of Weymouth, passed away peacefully, surrounded by her family on June 3, 2024. Born in Boston, raised and educated in South Boston and Dorchester, she was a Bostonian through and through. Theresa married her childhood sweetheart, Paul, in September of 1949 and together they raised their loving family of five in Dorchester and the South Shore. They ultimately settled in Weymouth, where Theresa remained for the last forty years.

She held many jobs and positions during her life, but the one in which she excelled and loved the most was that of mother, grandmother and great-grandmother (affectionately referred to as Nana by her six grandchildren and six great-grandchildren.)  Along with her love of family, she was one of a group of five close knit women who were considered as her ‘other family’ and these relationships sustained Theresa for her entire life. Singing, dancing and socializing were a major part of her life – you didn’t have to ask her twice to get up and sing or dance, with her husband, family or with friends. 

Theresa was a proud member of the K- Club at Florian Hall, The Castle Island Association and frequented the Weymouth Senior Club at the Whipple Center. She loved spending summers in Wareham at Pinehurst Beach, but of course most of all, Theresa cherished her family. She was a devoted wife, mother, grandmother, great-grandmother, and aunt.  She was a wonderful friend who will be missed greatly by all who were blessed to have known and loved her. 

Theresa is predeceased by her beloved husband, Paul Moran. She is survived by her loving children, Paul J. Moran and his wife, Jocelyn Hutt, of Roslindale, Michael T. Moran, of Quincy, John E. Moran, of North Weymouth, Teresa Moran-Sullivan, of Rockland and Timothy P. Moran, of North Grafton. Nana was adored by her grandchildren, Megan, Maura, Conor, Kaitlin, Kiley and Maeve and her great grandchildren, Aidan, Brendan, Jack, Alexandria, Tessa Rose and Kevin. 

We would be remiss if we did not thank South Shore Elder Services and the home hospice service at the Norwell VNA. The compassionate and professional care provided by NVNA afforded Theresa and her family the necessary strength and support at the end of her life's journey.
 
 

Relatives and friends are respectfully invited to attend a visitation for Theresa on Monday, June 10, 2024, from 4-7pm, in the CC Shepherd Funeral Home, located at 134 Pleasant St. (Columbian Sq.) South Weymouth. A Celebration of Life will be held the following morning in the funeral home at 9am, prior to the Mass at St. Francis Xavier Church at 10am. Burial will be at Mount Hope in Weymouth.


 

Mum’s Remembrance - Paul Moran, son

"Good Morning

On behalf of my brothers and sister, Michael, John, Teresa and Timothy, I want to thank you all for joining us this morning as we say goodbye to Theresa. 

I’d like to thank some of my mother’s care givers, South Shore Elder Services, Dotty Joyce, her homemaker and companion. the staff at Norwell VNA, my cousins Bonnie and Patricia who made time in their lives to visit and spend time with my mother and drive her to appointments and do her hair…. bringing out her radiant, youthful beauty. (mention the photo)

I want to make special mention of the love and support in the last few weeks organized and provided by my sister Teresa, my brother Michael who was at my mother’s bedside every day and a very special thank you to my niece Megan… all the family who came and sat with Mum during this time.

Thank you to Father Leonard, and Father Cannon for their spiritual assistance.

Theresa’s passing represents the end of an era…the time of old working class Irish Catholic Boston, and of a code of duty, responsibility, obligation, and loyalty. 

My mother was born on December 27, 1928, ten months before the stock market crash of October 1929 and the beginning of the great depression... She was the last child born to Joseph P Vallely and Rosetta Moakley Vallely…there were 4 children born before her: her brother Joe, her sisters Mary and Rose and her brother John. 

The depression impacted my mother as it affected a whole generation of Americans. She learned to do more with less and to live within her means financially… as well as emotionally…expectations were limited. She was never ostentatious…she was stylish…but not over the top so. That ethos became part of how she lived her life.

In 1941, at the age of 12, Mum suffered the first two tragedies in her life that would have lasting impact on her and in turn on her children: the death of her mother and the death of her brother Johnny, both of whom she loved dearly. She talked about Johnny throughout her life and when we were little and she taught us the song a Mother’s Loves a Blessing, she wasn’t speaking about herself, she was lamenting the loss of her own mother.

From that point on she was my grandfather’s housekeeper and chief attendant. I’m sure it was a love hate relationship, yet my grandfather continued to live with us right up through my high school years. She lived in a devout Catholic household, and she tried to pass that on to her children. I remember kneeling at my bed with my brothers and sister saying the Our Father, Hail Mary, and Prayer to our Guardian Angel…followed by a lengthy God Bless everyone we ever knew….to put off going to bed, of course. She would tell me how she and her girlfriends would sometimes venture beyond her own Dorchester parish St Peter’s and walk to St John’s/Saint Hugh’s on Blue Hill Avenue…found out later that it was for the bagels in a nearby deli and not for the want of listening to a great sermon.

She was a woman of a certain time and station in life who accepted the conditions in which she found herself and dealt with them…with whatever tools she had. And her circumstances during those years were not unlike four other girls who would become her lifelong friends: Betty Burns. Geri Canavan. Ellie Collier and Jeanne Duffy. These girls would become the women who we knew as my mother’s best friends, confidants, support group and from time to time, surrogate mothers. They became her family. It’s amazing that such a group of friends would maintain a relationship for nearly 90 years. That is some love. Make no mistake, Mum had many friends throughout her life…. Elaine Moriarty and Edith McGrath are more recent friends … But Jeanne, Geri, Betty, and Ellie were in a league of their own. And over the years, Mum had to say goodbye to them one by one…as she had to say goodbye to all her siblings, and most of her cousins and several of her nephews and nieces.

She was the last woman standing.

Despite her travails, she was mostly happy…she did struggle from time to time with her melancholia…but, given what she had lived and seen in her life…it is quite understandable how she would be so affected.

She was a vivacious, engaging, social, happy light in many people’s lives…she was certainly that during my early childhood. Mum sang to and with us all the time…doing the dishes, housework and always while driving in the car. (Although Mum never actually drove the car. I cannot remember my mother driving more than a few times in my life.)  Particularly as we were driving to the beach…her favorite place. There was always music.

Pinehurst Beach was where my mother really shone. She was in her element there. The best days of our lives …and I think hers… were spent during those summers at Pinehurst. For some reason, she was less strict during those times…oh, did I not mention my mother was a practitioner of what became known as tough love? I though it was just love…I remember seeing Leave it to Beaver for the first time and wondering just what part of America those people lived in…it certainly wasn’t Teresa Moran’s or our America…my mother was more a drill sergeant than a June Cleaver. And with five kids to keep in line…that made sense.

Anyway, the beach was where she became the legendary Mrs. Moran. Her authoritative, distinctive voice could be heard as far away as Parkwood beach I think,  yelling at any kid or adult who dared go beyond the ropes or was caught pushing on the raft or swimming too far out into the channel…or any boater who happened to stray too close to beach…the lifeguard was supposed to have charge of the beach …but we all knew it was my mother and Jeanne Duffy who really ran the show…I can still see them both in their white hats… patrolling that small strip of land…not missing any out of line movement and taking immediate corrective action…You just didn’t mess with these women…And in the evenings my mother’s voice would be joined by others as neighbors and friends would gather, mostly on the patio at the Redmond’s, and entertain themselves and us with songs…so many  songs…I miss those lazy hazy crazy day days of summer

It could be said that Mum was a better grandmother than mother…a debatable point for sure. She was as loving and giving to us as she could have been. But she…and my father... were exceptional grandparents to Megan and Maura, Kaitlin and Kiley and Conor and Maeve. And that love was often manifested in very practical ways. An example: When my wife, at the time, was in law school and preparing for the bar, my son Conor was an infant…timing, right? Anyway, my mother stepped in and took care of Conor while his parents were working and studying…as a result, Conor, her only grandson, held a special place in her heart. But she loved all her grandchildren and I am sure my brother and sister can give other examples of how Nana and Pa or Papa watched over and loved my nieces.

Speaking of nieces, my mother has four surviving nieces, Bonnie, Lynne, Geri and Patricia…they were the last attachments to my mother’s immediate family. The love they shared with Mum was extraordinary.

I never thought I would be without my mother…it just never occurred to me…she was always there…there would be periods of time when we wouldn’t see each other…certainly the pandemic was one of those times. But, no matter how long the time between visits or calls, she was always glad to see or hear me…at least I think so…and after almost 74 years of having her, I am finding it difficult to recognize that she really is gone. I think I say the same for my brothers and sisters and the rest of the family.

My mother was my first teacher, first dance partner…she was my confidant…we would have long late night conversations when I was younger… having a cup of tea, always a cup of tea… and a cigarette…she was my historian…before google, there was Mum. I know I drove her crazy with questions about the family and South Boston and old Dorchester and Ireland and she tolerated the questions…until she didn’t…and her selective hearing would kick in…she was my conscience…you know that voice in your head when you’re about to do something that you shouldn’t…yep, Ma’s voce. When I was at sea, away from home, Mum was my chief correspondent…she kept many of my letters which I recently discovered…

I’ve been referring to her as Mum…but mostly it was Ma…her family called her Tess or Teddie, my grandfather, when he was trying to make a point with her, just called her girl…but my favorite appellation was my father’s  who most often used the endearing ‘Trees, while you’re up” bellowing from  his seat at the head of  the dining room table…she would just roll her eyes…

Her humor wasn’t the storytelling kind…she never told jokes…it was about the quips and in the moment kind of humor…the side eye almost sardonic humor…for example, last week, she made Father Leonard laugh out loud as he had just finished anointing her on her death bed…saying something funny abut her kids to him. 

She had that Irish diplomatic ability where she could tell some one to go to hell and have them look forward to the trip. She was a hoot…she was someone not to be trifled with. She did not suffer fools and could spot a phony a mile away. Funny, I first heard the term stage Irishman from my mother decades ago.

Theresa lived a good, long and full life. Her legacy is her smart alecky, smart, caring beautiful grandchildren who are always mindful of their Nana and the direct commentary she would offer them… on any subject. She spoke the truth to them without regard for how the truth would be perceived…and I think her candor was well taken.

I will miss her truth, her beauty, her grace, her humor and her love.

Slan Abhaile, Mum."