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Neilie A. Heffernan Casey
Class of 1990
The
following remembrance was written
by Michael Casey '90.
 The
early days of my relationship with Neilie can easily be plotted on a
map of Mount St. James. We met in a classroom in the basement of Wheeler,
we had our first date at Sadie Hawkins in Hogan, we courted in Alumni,
Kimball and on Freshman Field, we stressed out in Dinand Library, and
we savored the limited sunny days on the quad. Holy Cross holds a special
memory for the two of us. For Neils and me, that square mile on a hill
in Worcester became the center of family, friends, faith, growth, spirituality
and, of course, the foundation for the relationship that would serve
at the center of our lives for 15 years.
It was the fall of freshman year when I first noticed Neilie.
We were in "Intro to Philosophy" and exchanged
hellos exactly once. The next semester, we again found ourselves
in the same classroom, and, in short order, the lessons of "Introduction
to Logic" became second to the girl. And, like countless
other Crusader couples who met as we did, our future was
sealed.
Neilie and I seamlessly blended into one another's families
and with good reason-purple ran deep. My lineage of my father
'52, Kathleen '84, Joe '85 and Carolyn '87 made the transition
easy-and I was soon advised not to mess this one up. Happily,
I discovered Neilie's dad was Class of '58 and that her younger
sister, Lynsey '00, would soon enough follow her sister's
lead.
After 10 years, (yes, another Holy Cross male quick to capitalize),
we were married, and every expectation one would have for
love, happiness and fulfillment were realized on a daily
basis. Last February, the birth of our daughter, Riley Eileen,
made our union that much more complete and inspired.
Somehow we got tangled up in Sept. 11, an event that remains
very surreal. I still feel that Neilie will soon be returning
from Los Angeles. Maybe this wishful thinking helps me maintain
a smile on my face and keeps me on my toes in caring for
our little Ladybug. I am certain that my strength and faith
have been maintained by the hundreds of messages of sympathy
and encouragement from my classmates and five decades of
Holy Cross alumni. I also know that during the first awful
weeks in September, the presence of Fr. Ford, Fr. McFarland
and Fr. Miller brought my family and me peace, perspective
and motivation to honor Neilie's memory with love and purpose.
Though I thought I knew her better than anyone, I have
been constantly amazed by stories of Neilie's goodness, thoughtfulness
and love for others. These tales and anecdotes come from
those closest to us-and from people that may have met her
but once. Through these gifts, Neilie's life will live on
in lessons that will teach Riley and me for years to come.
Time and again, I have been asked by family and friends
how they can help. At Neilie's services in late September,
I offered the following advice and suggestions. The most
important of these remains even more true today. I simply
ask that you keep Neilieand our other Holy Cross friends
lost on Sept. 11-in your daily thoughts and prayers. Just
knowing that someone, somewhere is remembering Neilie gives
me the strength to get through each day.
* * *
Neilie and I had our final goodbye last Tuesday morning.
She was very excited about her trip to Los Angeles. She looked
elegant in a simple outfit that she just purchased. We spoke
quietly, kissed and embraced for a good half minute. (Our
hugs were always at least half of a minute.) I insisted that
she wake Riley to say goodbye. I then watched her pull from
the driveway and I waved from the window. She stopped, she
flipped on the interior light, leaned across the passenger
seat, looked up and waved farewell with that great, big smile.
That goodbye was a meaningful, sincere, loving goodbye.
But it wasn't unlike the goodbye that we gave one another
the day before ... or on the previous Saturday, before I
ran my errands. We knew how to say goodbye to one another
... and for this, I am thankful.
Later that morning, things turned ... and suddenly it was
a very bad day. A cruel day. An unfair day. A day in which
my heart broke.
But as the day progressed, and I sorted through the truly
unbelievable events, I found myself more and more at peace
... simply because I had no regrets about my relationship
with Neilie. And I knew that Neilie felt the same way about
me.
I took great comfort when I realized that Neilie and I got
the most from every day and that we lived a full life. An
incomplete one-but a full one.
Soon after the news broke, our home was filled with many
of you who were by my side to support me and grieve with
me. But as that sad day progressed, Neilie made me stronger,
and soon I found that I was consoling my visitors.
It's hard to describe how I'm feeling now. But the most
accurate description is that I'm sad. I'm incredibly sad.
But I am positive.
For many of us, death is an awkward thing with which to
deal, and we are unsure about how to behave. Neilie's death
has sent many of you for a loop-so much so that you're paralyzed,
and you simply cannot find the words.
It is my pleasure to share my thoughts today in hopes that
they may make you more comfortable and help you understand
where I am. I need you to be strong so that you are ready
for me when I need you in the coming days. I know the road
ahead is a difficult one, and I will let the emotional roller
coaster that awaits take its course. And I am not sure what
to expect.
So know that I am at peace because Neilie and I knew true
love. We truly appreciated one another. And we were committed
to each other. Our wonderful marriage of five years and our
relationship of almost 15 years were based on our ability
to do simple things:
- Communicate
- Listen
- Support each other
- Laugh
- Before we went to bed each night, we were sure to resolve
any problems or arguments by simply saying, "I'm sorry." This
allowed us to sleep comfortably and look forward to the
next day.
Neilie was a thing of beauty. She had the full package-intelligence,
that warm smile, a contagious laugh, a great wit, gorgeous
hair-I loved her hair-and a radiant presence. To our friend
Sean Fallon '85, Neilie was always known as the "Unicorn." Why
the Unicorn? Because as he would explain:
"Much like the Unicorn,
a beautiful Irish Redhead
is often thought about in mythology,
but seldom found in nature."
She was always so put together. Classy, stylish, and elegant.
She could be stunning at a black tie event, in a Lilly Pulitzer
maternity dress, or in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt.
Her name. I love it. It is unique and beautiful. I love
saying it. I love seeing it. I loved that it had meaning-she
was named after her late father, Neil.
I protected her name and often corrected people, for it
was an easy one to bungle upon an introduction. The mis-pronunciations
never seemed to bother her, though. Neilie was smart in utilizing
a local professional hockey star's name to help people understand
it quickly: Upon meeting someone new, Neilie would say hello
and give her name. The person at the other end of her firm
handshake would pause and look at her quizzically. And without
missing a beat, she would say, "Neilie ... as in Cam." She
loved that.
She loved my name, too. She would simply call me, "Case!" I
loved it because it was indicative of our close comfort and
deep friendship.
And others got a kick when she'd call out my name in a
crowd. They would turn to me and ask, "Did she just
call you 'Case?'"!
In fact, she was so comfortable with calling me Case, that
in those rare instances that she would address me as "Mike," I
would respond, "Who's 'Mike'?"!
She was a good person-and always worked to become a better
one. She was selfless, sincere, caring, loving, thoughtful,
helpful and of strong character.
She looked to her family for inspiration. She got her strength
and guidance from her older sister, Eileen, her wisdom from
brother, Neil, her spirit from her little sister, Lynsey
'00, her style and tastes from her mother, and her grace
from her grandmother, Betty.
She adored her German Shepherd, Regent, her close friend
and companion for nine-and-a-half years.
She treasured her friends and always made the effort to
sincerely learn more about them.
And though she never, ever would consider herself perfect,
she was difficult to criticize. As one female friend said
to me, "No matter how hard I try, I can't ever find
fault with her."
And of course, Smiley Riley.
Our Little Ladybug. Mommy's little munchkin. Our happy little
baby.
Riley, Mommy loved you beyond words. She was so excited
to be your mother and your guide, and she took such great
care in everything related to you. As your mother's apprentice,
I was taught extremely well and can honestly say that I am
prepared to take on the responsibilities that lie ahead.
Though you have my good looks, it's apparent that you have
your mother's enthusiasm and smile. I look forward to watching
you grow to watch Mommy grow with you. And I can't wait to
see those Chiclet teeth come in and watch that bright smile
return.
Riley, the beautiful thing is that, as you can see, we
are not alone. Our family and friends here will keep your
mother alive with their stories, memories and letters. And
they will help you and me.
My parents, my siblings, my family and friends have all
been important sources of inspiration for me. But another
important source has been Neilie's father, Neil '58. Though
I never had the pleasure of knowing him, he taught me plenty.
He was kept alive by wonderful stories, fond memories and
hilarious tales. He was fun, wild, funny, was adored by many,
and was dedicated to Anne and his children.
He helped in teaching me how to live life. From him, I learned
lessons on how to be a great husband and a great father.
Neilie inherited his talent for golf, and we often talked
about what it have would been like to play with him. And
I believe that Neilie is with her dad right now probably
advising him on a proper grip and stance.
But his passing also taught me about the reality of death;
it's going to happen, and I learned to be realistic about
it, and that I need to be prepared. Obviously, I never thought
that something as tragic and sudden as this would happen
to Neilie; nonetheless I've realized that inside I have been
prepared.
Mr. Heffernan's death brought Anne and her children closer,
and together they were going to make it. And they did. I
have never heard more "I love yous" in one home.
I am privileged to be a part of the Heffernan clan.
As many of you know, Neilie and I enjoyed one another so
much. We were so proud of each other's accomplishments. I
was so proud to show her off and introduce her to someone
new whom she could charm.
She made me a better person. She opened my eyes to new
worlds. We were each other's best teacher and best pupil.
For example:
- She taught me about finance.
- I taught her about photography and art.
- She taught me about the latest fashions.
- I taught her how to work the bill of a golf hat in order
to get the perfect curve.
- She introduced me to Shakespeare.
- I introduced her to Frank Sinatra.
- She introduced me to steak au poivre. l
- I introduced her to the Extra Value Meal. l
- She taught me about the importance and necessity of paying
top dollar for 350 thread-count bed linens.
- I taught her how to change a tire-on her own.
Many lessons.
In times of difficulty, lies opportunity. And the good news
is that we have an opportunity to do better, to be better.
The world has changed. We can digest this statement and
be scared and uncertain about what's next. But we don't have
to be.
The world has changed. As Americans, we need to look at
ourselves and ask what it is that we are doing wrong that
has driven evil people to commit unthinkable acts. As individuals,
we need to look within ourselves to see how we can improve
ourselves and collectively, our nation.
The world has changed. And I encourage you to change it
in a positive way, a meaningful way. Grasp this opportunity.
Listen to the lessons that Neilie has taught and take just
one with you, for I do not want her to die in vain.
Many of you have asked me how you can help. Just as I got
inspiration from Neilie's father, I ask that you use Neilie
as a source of inspiration. Grab a piece of her and take
it with you and live it.
I want to share with you a simple list of items that Neilie
lived, demonstrated and taught me. All I ask is that you
listen for just one and take it with you:
- Smile
- Say "hello"
- Dress well
- Say "please"
- Say "thank you"
- Say "you're welcome"
- Buy flowers
- Pray
- Laugh out loud
- 1Sing songs, especially if you don't know the words
- Be grateful
- Listen
- Share
- Blow bubbles with little kids
- Keep your word
- Turn off the TV and talk
- Send thank you notes (before you forget)
- Go for a run
- Meet and greet your neighbors
- Enjoy your vacation
- Say "I'm sorry"
- Do one thing at a time
- Say "I love you, more"
I need to say "thank you." I speak for all the
Heffernans, Caseys and for Riley.
Neilie and I always used to pinch ourselves because of
our good fortune and good friends. I'm drowning in love right
now, and it's great.
I am thankful for family-I have witnessed what it means
to have an incredibly strong and supportive one.
I am thankful for the outpouring of support, love, and
concern-it has been overwhelming. I have been deeply moved
by the hundreds of cards and letters. I appreciate the kind
words; they truly help.
I am thankful for the incredible network of friends from
the many parts of our life together. The support has been
overwhelming; from our Holy Cross family, the TJX Companies,
Hill/Holliday, all of our friends in advertising, Internet
consulting, and retail, and the communities of Wellesley,
Portsmouth, San Francisco, Boca Raton, Worcester and Taunton.
This week we began the healing process with gatherings at
our home in Wellesley on Tuesday, and again last night.
Today is a homecoming. With a good mix of tears, joy and
smiles. Just as Neilie would have wanted it.
Neilie, you taught me well. You taught us all so well. I
ask that you continue to show us the way.
I thank you. Riley thanks you. Anne, Eileen, Neil, Lynsey,
and Betty thank you. We all do. I want to congratulate you
on a life well lived.
My beautiful princess, I will miss you terribly. I will
never, ever forget you.
I love you, more.
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