An unexpected and seemingly unrelated question has arisen as an outgrowth of these essays on my childhood days, namely, "Why did you and Maureen have so many children?" While Maureen and I have not talked seriously about this with many people over the years, I really had to think hard about whether I should even think of responding now. Then again, if not now, when might we explain how it all came to be? To present the answer more precisely the question itself is wrong. It should be, "Why did we have only ten children?" and herein lies the tale, the details of which even some of our children may not know.
I grew up in a two-child family for my first twelve years. Jack and I were already teenagers when my brother, Bill, was born followed two years later by my sister, Janet. Consequently the four of us were never "children" together the way Jack and I had been. Maureen on the other hand was one of six children, one of whom died in infancy.
Before Maureen and I married, she told me that up to the time we began to see each other that she had been going out with another fellow. When they discussed children, he said two children was the right number. When she replied that she had always wanted a large family, he allowed that three was possibly okay. That apparently was a deal-breaker.
One evening, we were walking in Forest Park which was right across the street from her family's house. She asked me how many children I thought would be nice to have. I had never quantified my thoughts on it up to then but I knew I wanted a big family and, having read Frank Galbraith's book "Cheaper By the Dozen," I suggested that twelve would be a nice even number. She laughed and agreed that twelve seemed like a nice round number of children to her, too. We were simpatico! We walked and talked some more and then sat down on a bench. And that was when I knelt down and asked her to marry me.
Each child we had, we welcomed as a new gift. I loved holding each infant and I became very adept at changing diapers. Our life certainly never got boring--or easier--but, as our family grew, the older children willingly took part in helping with the younger ones. Never once, as their number kept increasing, did we ever see them as a burden. Yes, there were many tasks to be done, meals to be served, diapers to be changed, laundry to be done, house to be cleaned. There were visits to the doctor, dentists, orthodontists, and childhood illnesses. Clothing was bought, inherited, and and passed down. Each needed to get dressed for school, ready for church, taught to read. Emergencies included the occasional hospital visit to remove the vitamin C tablet inserted experimentally into a nostril. In truth, we never lacked for anything except luxuries. Life was and is good. I'm not saying that we didn't have problems, but the size of our family was never one of them. Our houses and cars grew to accommodate our numbers--at one point we lived in a 17-room house--and we drove a VW van.
Of course, that aspect of life had to end and did. Our last baby was long overdue and Maureen was scheduled for a C-section. (The morning before surgery I demonstrated my overabundance of poor taste by congratulating Maureen on starting her eleventh month of pregnancy!)
Most people do not and would never want such a large family--and they are absolutely right for themselves. The life we have chosen was not a result of ignorance or compliance with church rules or carelessness. We chose it! In quiet moments over the years we have tried to picture what life would be if we had stopped having children after only two ...or three...or four….or five..."Impossible!" Our world, our life would be incomplete without our Sheila or Kerry or Jeanne or Beth or Dennis or Eileen or Maura or Patrick or Christine or Kathy. Absolutely and totally unthinkable! And that's our story!
Naturally, a garrulous 90 year old Irishman in relating a tale must have a postscript to his tale so here it is.....
Postscript: Maureen's seventh pregnancy began to miscarry so, at Good Samaritan Hospital, we asked the nurse to see that the baby was baptized, “John.” Since we never got to know and watch John grow and develop and display his personality, he is a very small bit of our life which will always be a mystery. “Och! Johnnie, we hardly knew ye.”
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