Mary DeCarlo, R.I.P. 

On the bulletin board in my office, I have posted several things that are important to me.  There are some pictures of family, a couple of inspirational quotes about priesthood that I like, and then there’s a photo of a bespectacled gray-haired woman sitting with a Yankees mug at her kitchen table in front of a large stack of pancakes, a faint grin on her face. The woman’s name is Mary DeCarlo. Mary died just over a week ago, on August 22. 

If there is someone out there who has been a member of our parish longer than Mary DeCarlo was, I don’t know who that person is.  Mary was born in Darien in 1925 and was baptized at St. John’s Church on the Post Rd. But a year later the new Church of St. Cecilia opened at the bottom of Weed Hill in Stamford, and her family decided to make that parish their spiritual home. It was in that original church that she and her husband Al got married in 1950. For decades, they were fixtures in the Parish of St. Cecilia, with Al a soloist in the choir and Mary involved in everything, even taking care of the sacristy and setting up for Mass.   

Going to Mass was something Mary did every day. She would walk to St. Cecilia from her home off Camp Ave, which involved scaling the heights of Weed Hill. By the time I came to the parish, however, Mary had turned in her key to the sacristy and her car, depending on friends for a ride to church. But she remained strong enough to make at least one thing clear when she introduced herself to me, saying: “It’s nice to meet you, Father. I’m Mary DeCarlo. Welcome to MY church.”  If you ever attended daily Mass at St. Cecilia Church, you would know Mary as the one who greeted everyone in the pews with a “hiya, honey” as she made her way up the aisle to her seat in the front row, and who then insisted on waving to each person in the church again at the Sign of Peace, even if we were already halfway through the Lamb of God. She explained to me that “everyone likes it when I do that, Father.” She was a real character – and she loved it. On one occasion, she came up to me at the end of Mass to inform me that the parents of school children were driving excessively fast onto campus. “One of these days someone is going to run me over, Father. And that would be a tragedy.” I could only agree. Sometimes I would greet her, asking: “how is my favorite parishioner?” She would reply, asking: “where is my favorite priest?” Occasionally, I’d respond that Fr. Mariusz was having breakfast or sleeping in. More often, I’d tell her that Fr. Riley was in Danbury. 

Mary DeCarlo was a parish legend. If she could have had it her way, I suspect she would have liked to die on November 22, the feast of St. Cecilia, the patroness of HER church. At it happens, she died on the feast of the Coronation of the Blessed Virgin Mary, Queen of Heaven.  It was a fitting date for her to go to her eternal reward, please God. May she rest in peace. 

posted 8/29/24