Julie Hagerty

I grew up in Ireland and England and emigrated to the US in 1990 with my four children. Having been widowed at 29 I couldn't imagine how my life was going to unfold, but I did know it was going to be a good life as I had finally chosen Eros. I had left school at 16 and married at 18 as a very young and naive girl. Now, I am happily married to my soulmate, whose company I have enjoyed for the past 30 years. Once in the United States I studied at Xavier University and earned my degrees which opened up the path toward teaching. I love stories, so it was a natural fit to teach literature. I have also taught Interpersonal Communications, Public Speaking and Storytelling as a Cultural Craft at Xavier and other local colleges as an adjunct. Life, I have discovered, is to be lived enthusiastically, fearlessly and compassionately. I am hopeful that my memoir inspires others to embrace opportunities, discover their own strength and experience true joy. Since writing this memoir I have enjoyed meeting with book clubs, speaking to the attendees at my book signing at Joseph Beth Booksellers in Cincinnati, and receiving feedback from readers who have been encouraged to make changes in their own lives after reading my story. I hope that you, too, will find the story engaging. I welcome all feedback and am available to come and speak with book groups or other groups that would enjoy an author visit. Sadly, on July 5th 2021 at 8:43 pm, my darling Bill died. It was my privilege to care for him for the 12 months leading up to his death and to be present when he took his last breath. Eulogy delivered by Julie Hagerty at the funeral of her husband, Bill Hagerty. When Bill and I met, 52 years ago in England, a friendship developed, mostly due to my insistence that he become my pen friend in America. I knew, deep in my being, that we would factor in each other’s lives in a significant way. I couldn’t explain it at the age of 11, but I felt it and I knew it. I was so upset at his leaving our home where he had been staying for a couple of weeks while doing prison ministry, that I refused to see him off. My mother, was annoyed at me for being “ignorant” as she called it, but I told her quite emphatically, “I am NEVER saying goodbye to that man.” I even told my high school pals to make a note of his name and keep it safe, so that when I was famous and on This is Your Life, Father Bill would be the big surprise guest brought in at the end of the program. Years later, when I was married and with four small children, my mother surprised me with a phone call announcing she was bringing Bill to see us, I was giddy with excitement. I remember seeing him getting out of her car and thinking to myself, “Oh, he is so old!” He was 54. We agreed to pick up our correspondence again and in the following two years wrote hundreds of letters to each other. Now, I’ve come to realize that writing, uninterrupted, allowed us to explore our relationship in a theoretical and perhaps idealistic way rather than in a practical way. Neither of us really had any idea how much of an adjustment we would need to make to live contentedly as a family. Bill, an introvert, liked peace and quiet and really had to make some serious adjustments. I, being an extrovert, liked to chatter away and discovered quickly that I wore him out with my incessant nattering. Conversation for me was connection, for Bill it was not necessary to connect in the same way. I remember trying to be a better wife to him by being quiet for prolonged periods, but it was almost impossible. One Saturday I decided that I would not initiate a conversation at all. I would wait until Bill spoke to me first. At about 5 pm, Bill asked me “Are you OK?” I answered cheerfully, “Yes” He replied, “Good” and said nothing more the rest of the day. Another time I put a brown paper grocery bag over my head and sat opposite him while carrying on a conversation, well, asking him questions. He successfully answered them all without once looking up from his newspaper to make eye contact until I asked him, had he noticed anything different about me today? Before going to bed he would turn off the tv and all the lights, leaving me sitting in the dark. An ahem from me would startle him into confessing he had forgotten he was married. In the early years of our marriage I mistakenly interpreted his silence as unhappiness, not really understanding it was just his preferred way of communicating. So, once I explained my thinking, he promised to reassure me that he was indeed happy. From then on, wherever he was in the house, usually in the bedroom, reading, about once an hour I would hear four or five bars of an invented opera booming out from the room as he sang of his devotion to me and his state of bliss. He also promised to spend half an hour each day after work talking to me on any topic of my choice and I promised to leave him alone for 23 and half hours. I was happy with the arrangement. We learned together how to be a family and since we both focused on the other’s happiness, we were content. Bill was above all kind. He sat through many reruns of a movie just to please the children. He insisted on proper respect for all who had worked on a film and we never left the movie theater until all the credits had finished. He courted me with a few great lines that I later heard on screen. When I challenged him about them, he claimed the actor had stolen his line, revealing his cheeky sense of humor. Bill was generous and hospitable opening our home and his heart to all who entered. Some stayed a while and enjoyed the meals he prepared for them, or discussed the shows on PBS with him, or simply sat quietly in his company. Bill was wise and knew how to remain neutral whenever there was a disagreement, earning the nickname of Switzerland. He was the one to whom anyone could express their angst and he would listen, never taking sides, but rather teaching how to listen for understanding and assuring us that all shall be well. Bill loved God and Our Lady. He reflected God’s compassionate love in the way he treated us all. Even when he was grumpy, he would retreat to the bedroom for a spell rather than project his annoyance on us. He had promised that he would never raise his voice to me and kept that promise. He did raise his voice to the wall from time to time, however, where uncharacteristically colorful language bounced off the bricks. We will miss him dearly, but will always remember that the love he generated in our lives remains and will be a constant source of joy and comfort. It is enough. He lived and died on his own terms, at peace, in the home that we created together, embraced by his family and friends, immersing himself in the boundless love of God. As a child I refused to say goodbye to this good man, and now I do not need to as he will be forever in our hearts, reminding us daily to "be kind and rewind" and that all is indeed well.