Kathleen Amelia Grealish

Kathleen (Kathy) A. Grealish passed into eternal rest at her home in Cane Bay, Summerville on Wednesday, June 26, 2024. 

She was born at Magee Hospital in Pittsburgh, PA on November 22, 1946. Her father’s career, first with World Commerce and later US Steel, took the family to Santiago, Chile in 1957 and then back to the US in 1960, first to Weston, CT, and later to East Norwalk, CT. In the summer of 1963, the family moved to London, England. 

Miss Grealish attended Marymount International School (affiliated with Marymount, Tarrytown, NY) and graduated in 1966. She later attended finishing school at the Pensionado de Alba, in Madrid, Spain. After her father’s sudden death in 1967, her mother kept the family in London until 1975 when they returned to the US, to Boca Raton, FL, and from there to South Orange, NJ, and eventually to Newtonville, NY (Albany). They were parishioners at St. Pius X Church in Loudonville, NY for twenty-three years. In 2013, after the death of their mother in 2011, Miss Grealish and one of her sisters moved to Del Webb in Cane Bay, SC.

Miss Grealish was a most loving and loyal daughter to her parents, John J. and Helen K. Grealish (both deceased), and a doting, protective big sister to her three siblings: Maureen Grealish, also of Del Webb, Cane Bay, SC; Patricia Brunel-Cohen, of Surrey, England; and Michael Grealish of London, England, the latter who predeceased her in 2015. She is also survived by her brother-in-law, Edward Brunel-Cohen, of Surrey, England; her niece, Claire Brunel-Cohen of London, England; her niece, Jane Brunel-Cohen of Bristol, England; and her nephew, John Grealish and his wife, Jenny Grealish, of Northumberland, England; and her grandniece, Persephone Grealish. Other family members include Kathy's cousins: Thomas – Eric, Alan, David, and Linda (deceased): Grealish – Timmy, Danny, Eileen, and Tommy; Philbin – Terry, Kelly, Tom; Ruff – Fred and Peggy (deceased), Leslie, Maureen, Lee, Louanne, Mary Pat, Laura, Barbara, Peggy, Linda, Larry, and Rich (deceased); Gargani – Melissa.  

Kathy was loved and admired by all who knew her. By her family, she was adored as an angel. She possessed rare qualities of goodness, gentleness, purity of heart, and humility. Her family is devastated and will miss her greatly. 

The Mass of Christian Burial will be Friday, July 19, 2024, at 10 am, at Immaculate Conception Catholic Church, 510 St James Avenue, Goose Creek, SC 29445. Burial will follow at Dorchester Memory Gardens, “Blessed Mother Catholic Garden,” 11000 Dorchester Road, Summerville, SC 29485.

Arrangements have been entrusted to McAlister-Smith Funeral & Cremation, 869 St. James Avenue, Goose Creek, SC, 843-553-1511, www.mcalister-smith.com. 

Cards and letters of condolence are appreciated and should be sent to the private residence in Del Webb of Charleston, Summerville (Cane Bay), SC.

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Reflections on Our Dearest Kathy, by Maureen

Blessed are the pure of heart for they shall see God.   Mt 5:8

One of those who tread softly and quietly through life, Kathy never demanded notice nor attention. Perhaps at times she may have seemed invisible, to some, but now – and eternally – she is a bright angel, standing before the face of God.

Most of us knew Kathy in some way or other. Some knew her briefly and only in her last years, others knew her better and longer. I knew her best and for all of my life.

My first conscious memory of Kathy is of her on her rocking horse (she was the first born and four-and- a-half years older than I) wearing a black cowboy hat. She had asked God for a blue-eyed, blond haired baby sister and, as she used to say: “The order came through!” There were few periods in my life when Kathy wasn’t there or when there were not reminders of her love. When I was at university, Kathy wrote to me practically daily. I cannot describe how touching it was to receive her letters, which were not easy for her to write because of damage done to her nerves as a result of her surgeries. And when our cousin, Eric, was in Vietnam, she wrote to him constantly as well. Once loved by Kathy, always loved by Kathy. And those whom Kathy loved could do no wrong! Also, she was fiercely protective to anyone she loved. Fiercely is not an exaggeration for should anyone even dare to attack someone she loved – family or friend – her Scorpio would erupt. (Kathy was born under the Astrological sign of the Scorpion!)

Something that also took people by surprise was Kathy’s ready wit and sense of humour, which remained intact until practically the end. It was only in her last days, under the shadow of her Parkinsons, when that spark went out.

Kathy had serious health issues since her birth; she cried constantly after she was born and the doctors at the hospital were baffled. She told me once that she remembered a time – she must have been only five or six years of age – when she had such an excruciating headache that she lay in the grass and prayed that Mummy or Daddy would come along and carry her into the house. But she never mentioned it at the time. Pain was a daily part of her life. She just accepted that as she accepted everything.

But nothing would ever stop Kathy. She was a dynamo. She climbed trees and played cowboys and Indians with the best of them. And with me, her “baby order” sister, she played dolls and other games, including many that she invented. By the way, Kathy was an excellent jacks player!

Something that very few knew about Kathy was that she started smoking and drinking at a very early age. When she was no more than a toddler, she and a little friend got tipsy from taking sips of people’s beer at a neighbourhood picnic. And at the age of about five she and a little friend – the same partner in crime from her drinking days – decided to have a smoke in a nearby toolshed. But the authorities got alerted when her friend burnt her tummy. They got caught! And so began – and ended – a shady period of Kathy’s life. But enough of that!

Grealishes use endless terms of endearment and nicknames. Baby Order was only one of many nicknames she had for me – Puppy, Chikeebee, Cupcake – the list goes on. Michael was Beastie or The Beast. Kathy was the family alarm clock. On those school mornings when Michael displayed, shall we say, a reluctance to get out of bed, she would remove his covers one by one. When that didn’t do the trick, she would inevitably resort to pulling him out by the leg. It became a daily game – Michael clutching onto the bed excitedly and both of them laughing like mad. Michael’s bedroom was quite a distance from the others – a bit scary for a boy of about eight – and many nights he would climb into bed with his big sister to fall asleep. It was only years later that Kathy told us of this and of how he would lull himself to sleep with complete and seemingly unending renditions from Alvin and the Chipmunks – and in the Chipmunk voices, no less! Michael also had the nervous habit of shaking his legs to fall asleep. Never a complaint from Kathy. Never even a word about it until years later. Patty, our baby, she called Pootsie or Punky-kins. Recently Patty remined me of – in Patty’s own words – the ridiculous and much too big black sweater that she knitted for Kathy. Kathy loved it and wore it until it was unwearable. It was a gift from her baby sister. Kathy was the perfect big sister: tolerant, patient, doting, protective, and loving and so proud of her younger siblings. She watched with joy as the three of us lived out our lives and our dreams. Our happiness was hers. Our achievements were her moments of pride.

If Kathy had disappointments in life, she never showed it nor mentioned it. She accepted with perfect grace all that life had dealt her and found deep satisfaction in everything she did. Some of her interests included music of all sorts. Her favourite group was an Irish trio called The Bachelors. She also loved Luciano Pavarotti, or “Pavee,” as she affectionally called him. When she found pleasure in anything – music, movies, anything – she would clap her little hands together. She had the genuinely sweet heart of a child. When given a gift – no matter how small, even a box of chocolates – she would hold it to her cheek with pleasure. Gifts she called “prizes”! Everything was a reason for joy for that sweet human being. Oftentimes people did not know what to think about Kathy, she was so different. She was disarming and completely open, truthful, and candid.

These past years people have said to me, things such as, “You are such a good sister.” “You have taken such good care of her.” But there could have been no better nor more caring a sister than Kathy. I can still see her little back, leaning over the kitchen counter every evening, preparing my next day’s lunch for work. Tired though she might have been some nights, she would not go to bed until she had finished. When I broke my ankle some years back and was confined to bed, she would prepare meals for me – or “tummy stuffers” as she would say – and carry them up the stairs on a tray. This was no easy feat for a girl who had a problem with her balance. Most mornings I would wake up to little hand written notes and messages she had left on the kitchen table for me to find. 

Anyone who knew Kathy and knew of her many brushes against death, understood that Kathy was very close to God. When she prayed, which she did every day of her life, she prayed with such intensity that burrows of concentration formed on her brow. She recited back-to-back Rosary novenas – for everyone but herself. As one of the nuns at school one time announced to Mummy: “Kathy has something special to do with God.” On a separate occasion, Mummy remembers having entered Kathy’s bedroom while she was reciting the Rosary and there was the strong scent of roses, although there were no roses anywhere. (The smell of roses is traditionally associated with the presence of Our Lady, the Blessed Virgin Mary.) There was so much going on in that quiet little soul; things she never spoke of, except I do remember one time, about twelve years ago, when Kathy came into my office at home, animated and excited, and announced that she had seen Jesus, that He had appeared to her. Very recently our cousin, Eric – her playmate and companion since early childhood – while visiting with his wife, Charlotte, went to Kathy’s bedside as she slept, and saw angels encircling her face and he was receiving the message that they were there to take her to Heaven.

Kathy loved babies, all babies. Any time we were out and about and she spotted a baby, she made a beeline for it. But especially she loved the Baby Jesus. She used to say, “Imagine what it would be like to hold that baby in your arms!” and “I can’t wait for the Blessed Mother to put her little baby in my arms.” Her very last days I knew for certain that she had begun to cross into the next world and to see what we do not see in this world and to hear what we do not hear. I knew with all my heart that Mary had heard her prayer and that Kathy did indeed hold that very baby, the Baby Jesus, in her arms.

Kathy constantly defied the experts. She pulled through three major surgeries over her life. After her final brain surgery the doctors declared that she could not be expected to live beyond her thirties, at the very most. Kathy lived until her seventy-seventh year. During her final months, the Hospice doctors predicted that she would most likely live no longer that six months. And even the last month or so, when she could no longer be tempted to eat nor even to drink, she clung tenaciously to life. She lived over a year under Hospice. Her nurse, Zach, said that Kathy’s philosophy was: “Watch me!” That was indeed Kathy!

There are big saints – those recognized by The Church – who change the world in big ways. And then there are the little saints, who touch the hearts of those around them. The little saints who bring warmth and innocence and love to the ones they share life with. Kathy was all the things that each of us is called to be. She lived the virtues that so many of us admire in others but fail to nurture in ourselves: goodness, innocence, purity of heart, and humility. She was the rarest of God’s creatures and God had given her to us, her family. Kathy was my big sister, my little mother, and my baby. She was all of these in one dear person. Kathy was the companion of my whole life. I will miss her desperately. 

So many things that most take for granted had been denied her. Mummy used to say about Kathy that because of her illnesses and the many obstacles in life, Kathy had had “her little wings clipped much too early in life.” Well, they are clipped no longer. Today our sweet angel is in Heaven. This day her wings are outstretched open and wide. Today Kathy has soared to the very highest point. Today our dear angel is in Heaven seeing the face of God.