Obituary of Joanne Murphy

Joanne Murphy, the matriarch and source of strength and inspiration for her family, passed away after a long illness on Saturday morning, February 22, 2020. She was 87 years old. Joanne was born and raised in Cambridge. She was the daughter of the late Foster and Alma Nauffts. She was a graduate of Cambridge High and Latin where she met her future husband John P. “Jack” Murphy, Jr. Jack was a gifted hockey and baseball player and following the completion of his education at Boston University and hockey career at BU and on the United States National Hockey Team, Jack and Joanne were married in November 1957. They settled in Burlington in 1960 and raised five children all of whom were very involved in sports and other activities in school and their community. Joanne managed their home, coordinated the family activities, and supported her children in their educations, sports, and activities. While Jack, who was a teacher and coach in Cambridge, was known for shouting his infamous (and often unsolicited) words of advice to his children and their many friends who were often absorbed into the mayhem of the Murphy household – things like: “when the going gets tough the tough get going!” and “don’t sweat the small stuff!” -- Joanne led and inspired by her example. In her quiet, consistent, understated way, beds got made, dishes cleaned, school lunches prepared, kids picked up, homework checked, and dinner always on the table. Along with her day-to-day caregiving, she was her children’s “go-to” for support with important decisions, disappointments and major challenges. And she was the first to be told when there was good news and success to be shared. Joanne was very intelligent, thoughtful, well-read, and informed. She never meddled or tried to give unsolicited opinions, but she had an uncanny ability to give exactly the right bit of advice exactly when it was needed the most. Unwavering in the care she provided to her family, Joanne had many interests outside her family as well. She was an avid tennis player and passed her love for the game on to her children and grandchildren who continue to play regularly. She was also active in the Burlington YWCA, Burlington Swim and Tennis Club, and Burlington Council on Aging where she especially enjoyed the day trips with her friends to the Foxwood Resort. Joanne was happiest when she was surrounded by her family and extended family. She adored her four siblings and treasured the time she spent with them each year in Falmouth, Cape Cod. She was very fond of her nieces and nephews and reveled in the song, dance, laughter and games that were usually on tap when the clan gathered. Oh… and there were her 12 amazing grandchildren. They truly were the lights of her life. Nana had a special relationship with each of them. When she became a bit too sick to attend their sporting events in person, you can bet she was checking the box scores in the Boston Globe the next morning. Joanne (or “Jo Jo” as she was fondly referred to) was one of the original residents at the Stonebridge Assisted Living in Burlington, where she lived for the past seven years. Assisted Living was an oxymoron for a woman as independent as Jo Jo, but she learned to embrace the community there. She and her family were so thankful for the staff for enriching her life, loving her, and giving so many more wonderful years with her family. She will be remembered always and her love will remain in the hearts of all those she touched during her lifetime. Joanne was the beloved wife of the late John P. Murphy, Jr. She was the loving mother of Mark Murphy of Burlington, Susan McGowan & her husband Paul of Melrose, Diana Robinson & her husband Chuck of York, ME, Martha Metzdorf & her husband David of Burlington, Sarah Harris & her husband Will of Gilford, NH. She was predeceased by her siblings; Elizabeth “Betty” Leary, Barbara “Bobbi” Marks, Phyllis “Fifi” Yapp, and Foster “Buddy” Nauffts. Joanne was the proud grandmother of Jack & Mallory Murphy, Emma & Sarah McGowan, Kyle & Samantha Robinson, Daniel, Drew, & Madison Metzdorf, and Ella, Murphy, & Finbar Harris. A visitation will be held at the Edward V. Sullivan Funeral Home, 43 Winn St., Burlington (exit 34 off Rt. 128, Woburn side) on Saturday, February 29 from Noon to 2 p.m. followed by a funeral service at the funeral home at 2 p.m. Interment will be at the Chestnut Hill Cemetery in Burlington. Relatives and friends are respectfully invited. Memorials in Joanne’s name may be made to People Helping People, P.O. Box 343, Burlington, MA 01803. Joanne Murphy Eulogy - February 29, 2020 Kids, Cars, Candy, and Caregiving Good Afternoon family and friends. Thank you for gathering with us to celebrate the life of our dear, sweet mom, Joanne Murphy. I’m her daughter Susan McGowan. It’s an honor to speak on behalf of my family about this one-of-a-kind lady who cared for us, made us laugh, and inspired us every day. Our mom didn’t make it to one hundred years as in the song, but she carried on for 87 and that’s a blessed long time! Her story is long, rich and complex. I’ll share a few chapters that I think best tell who she was and why we loved her so much. I’ll cover Kids, Cars, Candy, and Caregiving. Chapter 1: Kids Our cousin, Beth, wrote a heartfelt remembrance in which she described JoJo as a ‘kid-magnet… beautiful, inside and out always making the kids feel their best too. Beth remembered the days on Bristol Beach, shopping excursions along Main Street in Falmouth, and JoJo’s sense of style and fashion. JoJo loved her nieces and nephews and was in her element when with siblings Betty, Bobbi, Phyllis, Buddy and their crews. As a small child, I remember my mom reading storybooks to me, Mark and Diana and we were mesmerized by her clever imitations of the voices of the different characters. She also sang to us and I just loved it when she danced the Jitterbug in the living room with my dad. My mom was a very good dancer. As sweet and stylish as she was, she threw off some wit and sarcasm too. (Ha - you wondered where we all got that from didn’t you?) I remember asking her which one of us kids were her favorite and she said – “all of you are my favorite… when you’re sleeping.” Ha -- score another one for mom – never wanted us to get too full of ourselves. With her shiny chestnut hair, trim figure, witty personality, and many talents – to me as a kid, and even now, I thought she was a beautiful, princess angel – with a bit of an edge. Her grandkids thought she was all that too. I texted them the other night for their memories, and my phone blew up. She indulged them with shopping trips to the mall, Brigham’s Ice Cream, home-cooked meals (especially corned beef and roast beef dinners according to Jack and Mal), sleepovers (where it appears nana endured all kinds of shenanigans including Drew’s night terrors, Sarah’s jumping on the bed, and Ella, Murphy and Finbar eating cheerios for breakfast with as much sugar as they wanted—really Kids?), movie nights, Christmas Eve traditions, and her candy bowl on top of the fridge. Nana attended countless shows, recitals, matches, and games. Daniel remembered her watching his ball game from her spot up on the hill at Simonds. Funny, what goes around goes around because Emma remembered watching nana crush it at her bowling league. (And everyone thinks we got the competitive gene from our dad). The grandkids also shared memories of watching jeopardy and playing Rummikube and Bingo at Stonebridge. Sam and Kyle remembered nana bragging about her trips to Encore Casino where she told them she went “foah” times. And of course, there were the many phone calls with nana, all beginning with “Oh Hello” and ending with “I love you, be careful”. I can’t even repeat the banter that went on between nana and Maddy – they carried on like a couple of teenagers. “Kids” were the lights of my mom’s life. She was an authentic, lady who didn’t tolerate those who were loud or put on airs. The innocence and authenticity of children brought out the best in her and she in them. Chapter 2: Cars Mom didn’t get her driver’s license until she was close to 30 and had moved to Burlington where there were no trolleys or trains. With five children who always needed to be somewhere, cars were a necessary evil. Mom stuck her “Joanne’s Taxi” sign to whatever engine on wheels dad managed to get a good deal on – and off she drove. When we were young, we had a station wagon that one day inexplicably lost its ability travel in reverse. No problem. From that day forward, it was pull through spaces only for mom. When we were teenagers, dad got a good deal on our neighbor’s black ’57 Cadillac. It was as long as half a football field with giant fins and seven cigarette lighters. Our friends called it the Batmobile. My petite mom and sidekicks Sarah and Martha were usually in the front seat along with whatever assortment of my, Mark and Diana’s friends were getting a lift. It was rear wheel drive and terrible in snow. Can’t tell you how many times our crew had to get out to push while Batman Jo navigated, and her sidekicks Sassy and Buff giggled until we regained footing. We’d all then hop back into the behemoth and be back on the road like nothing happened. Mom was behind the wheel so often it’s a miracle she didn’t one day drive off and never return. One day we thought she did… Diana and Martha were outside the dance studio waiting for their ride, when Joanne’s taxi sailed by. That’s it, they thought – she’s never coming back. But she came back a few minutes later. She had just been on the road so long that she had a little white line fever. There are many more stories like this. My point with this chapter on Cars is it highlights our mom’s sense of humor and how she just rolled with the punches. Oh - and that she could have left hundreds of times, but she is not a quitter. Chapter 3: Candy Mom had a lot in common with what she considered her primary nutrition source, a big, beautiful box of assorted milk chocolates. She was many things to many people: • “Jo” to my dad for whom she worked tirelessly to support and sustain. • “Mama or mom” to us kids for whom she had the uncanny ability to give exactly what we needed when we needed it the most. • Mrs. Murphy when our Latin teacher, Mr. Delduca called to tell her Mark had missed 14 classes. • Mrs. Murph to our friends whom she welcomed, accepted and never judged. • Jo Jo to her close friends, extended family and Stonebridge family who all knew her long and well enough to see that firm exterior melt away. • Nana to her twelve grandchildren whom she loved unconditionally and didn’t even get mad at if you took a bite of a chocolate and put it back in favor of something different. Like the assorted chocolates, she was a little firm on the outside, generally soft and sweet on the inside, but edgy too, like the toffees and nuts she favored. She had something to offer everyone. She didn’t judge, gave you the benefit of the doubt and you usually ended up with just what you needed. Chapter 4: Caregiving The final chapter of this story is caregiving. Mom managed our home, coordinated our activities, and supported our physical and emotional needs to a tee. But the best thing she did for us as a caregiver was to learn to care for her own physical, emotional and spiritual needs. In doing that, she role-modeled strength and independence and inspired us – especially us girls – to work and study hard, get an education, and try to do what we love so we could be fulfilled and self-sufficient. She was a little ahead of her time in taking classes, going back to work, developing her own interests like tennis. She remained well read, informed and “her own person” until the very end. Dad always yelled: “when the going gets tough the tough get going!” but mom led and inspired by her example in her quiet, consistent, understated way. Epilogue Now for the epilogue to this story. We all gathered to clean out mom’s apartment at Stonebridge earlier this week. A huge shout-out to Paul, David, Chuck and Will. Mom knew she had the best sons-in-law and she leaned on you often. As Mark, Diana, Martha, Sarah and I bumbled around nostalgically, you guys were rock stars. Anyhow, as we purged and packed, the joke was – make sure you check all the pockets and under the cushions because our inheritance was sure to be hidden somewhere. But when we finished, we stood around the empty room having found no cash or keys or even IOUs. But then it hit me. Our family is the inheritance and the best gift mom could leave behind. My brother Mark was an amazing caregiver to our mom and the most sensitive badass I’ve ever known, and my sisters, Diana, Martha, and Sarah are caring, smart, accomplished, hard-working and simply -- my best friends. Thank you, mom. Now go in peace and embrace all that lies in store for you in heaven. We love you always.