Mary M Kennedy

Mary (Murnane) Kennedy, a beloved, hard-working, wise, devoted, humorous, and resilient individual, affectionately known as “Nana” passed away on August 21, 2025, at the age of 91. Born on March 1, 1934, in Kealkill County Cork, Ireland, she was the daughter of Daniel and Bridget (Holland) Murnane.

Mary was a member of the Cape Cod Hydrangea Society, where she shared her passion and expertise. She looked forward to the emergence of fiddleheads, the first sign on growing season. Her love for Gardening was a metaphor for her bountiful life. This attribute was well known among her friends and family, reflecting her omnipresent personality and zest for life.

As a dedicated parishioner of Our Lady of Victory, Mary was deeply involved in her community. She was also the founder of Gathering Grandmothers, an initiative that brought joy and companionship to many.

Mary was predeceased by her loving husband John “Jack” T. Kennedy and her brothers Patrick and Danny Murnane. She is survived by her sons John Daniel Kennedy, Thomas Andrew Kennedy and Gerald Joseph Kennedy, her daughter Mary Kennedy-Shoffner and her husband Jay, her grandchildren Meghan Kennedy, Brian Kennedy, his wife Antonia and her siblings Kitty Bowler, Sheila Gamble, Bridie Connolly Teddy Murnane and John Murnane. She also leaves behind her beloved German shepherd, Brady, who never left her side.

Visiting hours will be held on Tuesday, September 9, 2025, from 4:00 pm to 7:00 pm at Doane, Beal & Ames,160 West Main Street, Hyannis, MA, 02601. A Funeral Mass will be celebrated at Our Lady of Victory Parish, 230 South Main Street, Centerville, MA, 02632, on Wednesday, September 10, 2025, at 11:00 am. Mary will be laid to rest aside her beloved husband Jack at St. Jerome’s Cemetery in Holyoke, MA on Thursday, September 11, 2025, at 12:00 pm.

In honor of her love for flowers, memorial donations may be made in her name to the Cape Cod Hydrangea Society, https://capecodhydrangeasociety.org/donate/ To share a memory or for online condolences visit https://www.doanebealameshyannis.com/

This is a thank you to all of our friends and family who reached out to our family with condolences for the loss of our best friend, our mother! This is a compilation of conversations with “Nana” to leave but not just a prayer but a message from the most devote heart that God has taken in with open arms. We love you all and so did Nana!

The Last Cup of Tea: A Story of Caring Until the Very End

Grief often arrives in silence. It creeps in like the soft steam rising from a teacup, swirling with both warmth and absence. When we lose someone, we love, the simplest gestures, a favorite mug on the table, the clothing last worn folded on a chair, become sacred reminders of a presence now gone.

This is the story of my mother, a life lived with compassion, humor, and unshakable faith. It is also a story about what it means to truly care for someone until their very last breath, the small acts of love that matter more than grand displays, the quiet constancy of presence, the “last cup of tea.”

Memories Steeped in Love

From childhood, my mother carried a sense of wonder. As a little girl traveling from Ireland to America, she tasted her very first banana on the ship upon she crossed the Atlantic, a moment so astonishing that she carried its sweetness as a lifelong reminder of how joy could be found in even the simplest gifts of life.

Her life was filled with such gifts. She returned from Ireland after her father’s passing, carrying both grief and comfort: a small mechanical donkey, a toy that still sits on a shelf in the family home. Though its gears have long since stilled, it remains alive with meaning. A keepsake of happy days. A reminder that even in sorrow, love endures.

Caring Until the End

The last days of her life were not marked by despair, but by devotion. Every moment was measured in gestures of care, preparing meals, tucking blankets just right, sitting quietly to hold her hand. Caring until the end means recognizing that the mundane becomes sacred. The final shared laugh, the familiar touch, the ritual of making one more cup of tea, these are the true testaments of love.

Even the family dog seemed to understand, gazing with wide, searching eyes as if asking questions, we ourselves could not answer. In those eyes was unconditional love, steadying the air when grief felt too heavy to bear.

The Ache of “One More Day”

As we age, wisdom often comes not in triumph but in longing. We begin to understand that we would give up anything, even everything, for just one more day. One more moment to look into our mother’s eyes and speak a simple declaration of love hidden in ordinary words:

“Hey Mom, want a cup of tea?”

That small question, so unassuming in life, becomes monumental in absence. For when the loved one is gone, the kettle still sits on the stove, half full, its steam now only a memory. What was once a daily ritual becomes a libation of love poured into silence, an offering to the past, uttered in happier days.

The absence itself becomes presence: the empty chair, the quiet room, the untouched cup. They are reminders that love does not vanish with death but lingers in the spaces where we once shared life.

A Compelling Reminder for the Living

Here lies the most painful lesson of loss: we cannot turn back time. The arguments, the impatience, the slammed doors and rolled eyeballs, all of it pales when measured against the silence that follows absence.

Too often we spend our days caught up in “first world problems,” grievances that seem urgent in the moment but dissolve to nothing when weighed against the eternal absence of someone we love. Every ounce of ire, every flash of angst, every stubborn grudge steals time we can never reclaim.

The warning is simple, and it is urgent:

Do not waste love on silence. Do not let pride steal moments that could have been joy. When you still have the chance, put down the phone, let go of the petty annoyance, and ask instead,

“Hey, want a cup of tea?”

One day, that chance will be gone.

Legacy Beyond Absence

Grief does not end with a funeral. It lingers in stoplights, in random tears, in the small rituals of daily life where memory insists on being present. And yet, in those very moments, there is grace.

My mother taught us to live with childlike wonder. When her grandchildren spoke, she always met them with amazement, exclaiming with her signature phrase: “Whoopie Wow!” That simple expression has become her legacy, a way of reminding us that life itself is astonishing, even in the midst of sorrow.

Her legacy is also a charge: to continue loving one another. To carry her memory not as a burden but as a light. To sit, every so often, with a warm cup of tea, and remember that the most ordinary of moments are also the most extraordinary when shared with those we love.

The Lesson of the Last Cup of Tea

In the end, caring for a loved one is not about dramatic gestures. It is about being there, in presence and in patience. It is about offering comfort when words fail. It is about preparing the last cup of tea, knowing that it is not the tea itself that matters, but the love behind it.

My mother lived a life defined by this kind of love. Her story is not one of loss alone, but of endurance, legacy, and grace. She remains with us, at every stoplight, in every unexpected tear, in every exclamation of wonder.

She reminds us, still, why we are here:

To love one another.