Love as Old as the Ages....

This is a true love story, as old as time, undaunted by death, as strong as ever, and I wish I had asked more questions.

I met Nana when I married my husband.  She was his feisty, no-nonsense grandmother on his dad’s side and was already in her 90’s when she came into my life.  I know that she was a life-long New Yorker, that she didn’t like cats, and that she loved her husband.  Boy, did she ever love her husband.

Her name was Lucy Dietrich and she was born on May 30, 1904 in Brooklyn, New York.  Both of her parents, Henry Dietrich and Mary Eagle, were born and raised in New York.  She told the story of her dad telling her that everyone was flying their flags in honor of her birthday.  It wasn’t until later in life she realized it was really in honor of Memorial Day.  She told me she was one of 13 children.  (New York apartments in the early 1900’s didn’t have a lot of room for a large family.)

Lucy met a dashing young man named Howard Dewey Macdonald in her early years.  Howard was the son of immigrants.  His father, Robert H. Macdonald came from Scotland, and his mother, Elizabeth Parry hailed from Wales.  He was about six years older than Lucy and when he was 17, he enlisted in the Army, prepared to serve his country.  And that he did.  He did his basic training in Camp Wadsworth, South Carolina and was a member of Company L, 47^th Infantry out of Long Island, NY.  He arrived in France on 19 August, 1918 and was at the Battle of Saint-Mihel, during the Meuse-Argonne Offensive,  part of General Pershing’s personal service.  When he was discharged from the military in November of 1919, he had reached the rank of 1^st Sergeant.

On 15 June, 1924, Lucy and Howard were married in Brooklyn, New York.  They stayed there where they raised their only son, Howard Dewey Macdonald, Jr., born in 1932.  Howard Sr. worked for an insurance company as a salesman and then went on to sell real estate.  Lucy, always ahead of her times, was a supervisor for AT&T.  This was when there were still switchboard operators.

All during the war years when Howard was away, Lucy’s love never lessened.  I recall that Nana always called him ‘My Mac’.  In all the years that she was in my life, I don’t think I ever heard her call him by his first name…it was always ‘My Mac’.  Even on photos she would point him out with arrows and write ‘My Mac’.  That was true love.

It wasn’t easy raising a family in New York, especially in the post-Depression era, but I never heard a disparaging word when she would tell the stories.  It was so evident that even though they struggled, their love helped them get through the tough times.  Howard Jr. grew up and went off to college and work, and Lucy and Mac lived their day-to-day lives.

In February of 1954, Mac passed away from throat cancer.  Lucy was left a widow, her only child was living in another state, and her world would never be the same.  Time took its toll and she eventually came to live with her son and his family.  She lived to see two grandchildren and one great grandchild before she died in November of 2000, at the age of 96.

Until the very end, she would talk about ‘My Mac’ and get that distant look in her eyes.  You knew she was remembering, almost reliving, those time she spent with the love of her life.  Through war, the Great Depression and everything else that life handed her, she spent all of her years loving ‘My Mac’.  I can’t imagine a greater legacy.  

Lucy and Mac are together again, interred in the Long Island National Cemetery in Farmindale, NY.  She is back on native soil and back with her one true love.

In my opening, I said I wish I had asked more questions.  I wasn’t actively working on our family history at the time, but because I didn’t ask questions, I may never know how she met Mac.  I will never know how he asked her to marry him, or how he reacted at the birth of their son.  I may never know the names of all 12 of her brothers and sisters and I will never know what it was like growing up with that large of a family in a tiny New York apartment.

I will tell what I know of their story, even if I don’t have all the facts.  A love story like that is just too precious to pass up.