Kay passed away peacfully at the St. Cabrini Nursing Home in Dobbs Ferry, NY with two of her daughters, a son and a grand daughter in attendance. Funeral services were held Friday, January18 at St. Monicas RC Church on East 79th St. in New York City, next door to where Kay lived for the last 35 years. Her son Patrick wrote and presented the Eulogy at the funeral.

Katherine Madeline Carroll, Kay, was born on January 13th, 1916.  That's Katherine, K-A-T-H-E-R-I-N-E. That is what is on her birth certificate. She told me once she decided she liked K-A-T-H-R-Y-N better so she just started using it and that became her official name of record.... try to get away with that today.

That sort of strong willed attitude, that, for lack of a better term, I will call a streak of stubbornness impacted her life, and our lives, although it could be frustrating at times, this streak did serve her - and eventually us – well, when she was confronted with some of life's hardships.

She loved parties, particularly family gatherings, travels, pets and friends - throughout the years she developed some select, life-long, enduring friendships.

The first of which she was born to. On that January day in 1916 she joined the family of Charles Carroll, Elizabeth Gertrude Murray and that first life-long friend, her sister Helen. Although their relationship had its ups and downs - as any good sibling rivalry should - they shared the good times and the hard times and the mumps together. Mother always kept in touch with Helen, visiting her often until Helen passed away.

But, the happy looking pictures of the Carroll family, at the beach or at a farm belied the reality, and her parent's marriage ended in divorce when Helen and Kay were children. Kay's personal life was difficult in those formative years, abandoned by her father, her mother unable to care for her daughters, the girl's grandmother and Kay's namesake, Katherine Carroll stepped up to some of the responsibilities her son had abrogated and saw to their care.

Helen and Kay were sent to boarding school in Sag Harbor. Kay always remembered that time fondly and she developed a couple of more enduring friendships with her teacher, Sister Eugene, and a classmate, Roselle Langan. Kay advanced through her teen years, graduated, and joined the workforce. There, at least as I recall the story, while working as a clerk in a department store she waited on a handsome young man buying gloves and, although he was 10 years her senior, soon Kay was dating Walter Joseph Cuskley.

Kay's 20's and 30's were a time of living life. She was at the center of family generational changes commencing with Walter and her marriage on May,23 1936, just down the block at St. Ignatius Loyola. After a honeymoon in Bermuda, Walter and Kay settled in to exurban living in Forest Hills with neighbors sister Helen and Jack Kelleher, Walter's brother Bob and wife Rita and new found friends the Ducey sisters Mary Crabtree and Virginia Vandewater. As the older generation passed on  - including both Kay and Walter's parents and her namesake grandmother – Kay and Walter created a new generation with children Carroll, Eileen, Paul, Lis, Colin and Patrick. In spite of the global upheaval surrounding World War II, life was pretty good in Forest Hills and summers in Westhampton.

As Kay approached 40 it was time for her and her neighbors to join the suburban migration. The family moved to Manhasset on Long Island. New home and new friendships - Frances Bourguet, Margaret Ryan and the Ryan's friend Father Patrick Sullivan.

Then, not too long after settling into suburban life, her life would change. Walter fell ill with heart disease and passed away within days of his 51st birthday in February 1957. Kay found herself a 41 year old widow with 6 children ranging in age from 19 to 3 - The stubborn streak became an asset.  Fueled by what I believe was a desire to make sure her children were not subject to the same upheaval she experienced with the breakup of her own childhood family, Kay tenaciously battled to not only provide my brothers and sisters and I with the essentials – food, clothing, and a roof over our head – but she worked hard to continue private parochial school educations, afford us college opportunities, celebrate weddings in style and travel throughout the country and the world.

She went to work at North Shore Hospital, juggled house maintenance, nursery school schedules, and school tuitions; and even travelled into the city to take classes in the insurance industry. Kay had embarked on a phase of her life that would span more years than her childhood, school years and marriage combined. She made sure the foundation was there that would see her family grow over the next 5 decades. And grow it did, sons and daughters in law, Nick, John, Peggy, Gary, Sally and AnnMarie; Grandchildren: Nick, Walter, Lisa, David, Gabrielle, Kate, Sheila, Megan, Kitty, Nancy, Eric, Justin, Meg, Chrissy, Robby, Tara and Caitlin; “GrandSpouses”: Nancy, Marybeth, Scott, Suzanne, Ed, Tom, Zul, Mike, Coco and Brendan; Great-grandchildren Nick, Katie, Emily, Jack, Alie, Jane, Peter, Polly, Tad, Margo, Lucy, Drew, Devyn, Dawson, Caroline, James, Skye, Kieron, Bronwyn, and 3 more on the way. Through marriage and birth she oversaw the expansion of her family from 6 children to 58 descendants and spouses. And, call it luck if you want, but she is survived by every one of those 58 souls, hale and healthy. -- Now that's a legacy.

While her family expanded her household contracted. Kay continued to live and work, as we one by one moved on to start our own families. She moved to an apartment in Queens and then next door to this church at 425 (E. 79th St.). She went to work at the Catholic Film Office with Fr. Pat. Retired from that and then turned a temp typing job into full time work in the Executive Editor's office at the Wall Street Journal – in her 70s (that streak again).

Kay travelled. First car trips around the US, taking along whatever kids were still at home – Dewey beach, Montreal/Quebec City and the Maritimes, up to Boston to visit Helen, Florida to visit Mary, California to visit Mary, Tennessee to visit Mary. Then, at an age, that in current terms could probably best be described as the 'AARP active mailing list' age, she decided to pick up a new hobby... skiing... at 56... stubborn. The travel continued. Sometimes working vacations with Fr. Pat to film conferences around the world – England, Ireland, Wales... Sweden, Holland, Germany, Italy... Peru, Brazil, Philippines and Lord remembers where-else. Other times it was a ski destination. Vermont, the Quebec Laurentians or the Swiss Alps. And new friends, particularly Phyllis Owen  in England.

She enjoyed her family, delighted in every new grandchild and great-grandchild. Knitted Christmas stockings and baby sweaters. Had a grand old time at family gatherings, especially THE family party, Christmas and her birthday.

Around the dawn of the new millennium age started catching up to her. Slowly she gave up skiing, then driving, then travel and then even knitting. She broke a hip twice and ended up in assisted living accommodations both times, but that 'streak' just seemed to ripen with age. That was epitomized by one incident. It was frustrating at the time, but it has made for good storytelling: After recuperating, to some degree, from the second broken hip she wanted to move back to her apartment in the city - in all of our sage wisdom we opposed this and we were NOT going to enable this obviously self destructive behavior by helping her move. So, she did it her self. At a shade under 90 years old, she called up a moving truck to pack her things from the assisted living facility and move them back to 425. Well, that only left the problem of getting herself back there. Simple, she just hitched a ride with the moving guys and rode in the cab of the van...

So, we celebrate her life, and the life she has given us. Towards that end, I think the menu this evening should be: a cocktail – Pink Pineapple Grapefruit juice and Canadian Club. For hor'dourves, Wispride Portwine Cheese on Nabisco Bacon Thins. The main course, Chicken  Marsala and very well boiled stringbeans with a Sutter Home White Zinfandel. For dessert, Marble Birthday cake, or better yet some of Sally's Lemon Meringue pie.

Thank you Mom, I love you. And give Daddy hugs for us.

Unfortunately, I could not make it today. Instead I thought I would send a few words. Sitting here thinking about Grandma, my fondest memories are of when she would take us on one of her trips. It was always with some combination of siblings or cousins, and almost always included Father Pat, and it was as close as the ski slopes of New Jersey or as far away as a road trip to Quebec, Canada.

I thought it was so cool that my grandma was the one who taught me how to ski and how she basically let us do whatever we wanted on the ski slopes. I also remember that she would pack all of our lunches, including her aspirin bottle full of her Canadian Club for her lunchtime cocktail. I don’t think she thought that we knew what it was, but oh, how I understand the need for that now more than ever.

Grandma was a strong woman both inside and outside. Not only was she physically fit her whole life, skiing and swimming in the ocean for most of it, she raised six kids alone after Grandpa passed away, and traveled the world on business in a time when most women didn’t work outside the home. She was an inspiration that we could do anything we set out minds to and for that, I thank her.

Ave Maria

Amazing Grace

Be Thou My Vision