A lot of men get to deal with the stereotypical meddling mother-in-law after the honeymoon ends – type who tries to involve herself in the everyday married life and getting catty when her advice is not followed to the letter. I had the exact opposite experience with my mother-in-law, Virginia Colohan.
When my wife and I married, Virginia, who I call Mom, treated me as if I were one of her eight children. Over time, a tremendous bond formed between Mom and me and that bond ultimately helped form The Augusta Press.
Several years ago, it became clear that due to Mom’s advanced age and physical disabilities, she either needed in-home care or should transition to assisted living. Mom loved her independence, her card games with friends, Mass on Sunday and just bristled at the idea of moving into an assisted living facility.
At the time, my wife told me that there would be plenty of law cases in the future but that there was only one Mom Colohan. We decided to shutter Jean’s law practice, which meant that for me, as Jean’s paralegal, I was out of a job.
Over the past two years, Jean and I have had fun with Mom. Jean and I took her to Michigan twice to see family and to New Jersey as well. Then there were the card games every week with Ginny’s cadre of senior citizens friends that were times filled with laughter.
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In our travels, we took photos at the White House, played along the Jersey Shore, toured the Henry Ford Museum and took our time getting to our destinations so we missed nothing along the way.
In Michigan, marijuana is legal, and so Jean and I visited a dispensary and bought some chocolates. Mom rarely drank alcohol and in her life had never tried marijuana. But she decided she wanted to try some of the chocolate. Hilarity ensued as we all burst into giggles while scarfing down chinese takeout.
Yes, I got my 84-year-old mother-in-law stoned.
On our last trip back from Michigan, Mom asked me about my future career plans. She knew I was bored, she knew I loved taking care of her and her gardens, but as a 49-year-old man, that is not a career. She knew I was restless. I didn’t have to tell her.
So, we talked.
I told Mom that my greatest love was journalism but that newspapers and radio stations were not hiring reporters.
“So, then why don’t you start your own newspaper,” she responded.
At first, I rattled off all of the reasons I should not try to go and start a newspaper, and she countered every one of my reasons not to with reasons why I should.
As it turned out, Mom retired from The Augusta Chronicle Finance Department, so she really knew the ropes when it came to the daily finances of a newspaper. She gave me all the ammunition I needed when it came time for me to stand in the boardroom to show our then-prospective investors, Connie Wilson, Joe Edge and Debbie van Tuyll how our paper, The Augusta Press, could be a viable newspaper and a solid investment.
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During the time we were building the paper, Mom asked constantly how things were going. Once, she pulled me aside when my wife was not in ear shot and asked, “Do you need me to loan you a little money, you know, to get things started?”
I told her no, it looked like we had the investment thing tied up. Her response was to tell me how handsome I looked in my suit and that she just knew I would get the backing needed before I even left the house that day.
That was my Ginny. She believed in me when I did not really believe in myself and she pushed me to do my part and make The Augusta Press happen. Yes, she nagged at times, but it was the good kind of nagging.
The day before we launched The Augusta Press in January, my wife Jean, Mom and myself all fell prey to COVID-19. While Jean and I recovered, Mom was hospitalized for three weeks. She already had a non-aggressive form of lung cancer and the COVID-19 did irreparable harm to her already fragile body.
We brought Mom home two weeks ago, knowing that we were going to be saying goodbye to her soon. That goodbye happened last Friday as Mom passed away gently with all the family here with her. We all held her hand as she passed out of this world and into Heaven.
Mom Colohan schooled me in how to run a newspaper and eventually make a profit from it. It’s ironic that one of the things she told me was that of all the income streams out there, not to rook people on obituaries, and she lived long enough to be the first person to have an obituary in The Augusta Press.
I am beginning to think she planned it that way.
Godspeed Virginia, Mom, I love you so much, and you have left a wonderful legacy.
Scott Hudson is the Managing Editor of The Augusta Press. Reach him at scott@theaugustapress.com
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