MONICA Molloy loves her neighbours.
She can name just about every person in her street, the names of their children and a little tidbit about each of them.
If pushed, she could probably name everyone in the Nundah-Banyo parish too.
She loves to share her life, her faith and her home with her neighbours.
She is always inviting people over.
Her home is warm and inviting; the walls and benchtops are crowded with photos of family and friends.
“I love to gather people around the table,” she says.
She fondly recalls a night when she had some neighbours and former parish priest Fr Bernie Gallagher over for dinner.
Her only regret was her dining table only had eight seats.
“That was a great night,” she said.
She says she has had a blessed life from the beginning.
Even before the beginning, she says, the Church was taking care of her family.
Her maternal grandmother died of the bubonic plague when it swept through Brisbane in the early part of the 20th century and then her maternal grandfather died in 1916.
At age 13, Monica’s mum was taken into the care of the Josephites.
She said they raised her to be a devout Catholic woman.
Her parents were “beautiful people”, she says, and her siblings – two boys and two girls – took good care of her too.
Monica was born at Dalkeith Private Hospital in Brisbane’s northern suburbs.
It’s no longer there.
It was demolished in the 1990s and replaced with parklands and shopfronts like a veterinarian and some cafes.
She remembers driving past with her children and pointing out the plot of land, telling them that’s where she was born.
Quick as anything, one child quipped from the backseat, “What – at the vet?”
Monica grew up in Wooloowin, went to Holy Cross School, did all her sacraments there and went off to St Rita’s College after that.
There, she made lifelong friends – including one who has lived next door to her for more than 40 years.
She studied nursing and midwifery after her schooling, which took her from Brisbane to Townsville to Sydney.
When she was on her second year of nursing, living in Townsville, she caught the eye of a law-student, Kevin Molloy, who spotted her at a dance.
She still remembers him walking over to her.
It was the last dance of the night and it was a love connection – she made him feel like she was “floating a foot off the ground”.
Three years later, in 1967, they were married at Holy Cross Church.
A year after that, their first child, Brendan, was born.
Brendan was a year old and Monica was pregnant again when Kevin’s birthday was drawn from the national lottery – he had been conscripted to join the war effort in Vietnam.
Six days before Kevin was due to ship out, Monica miscarried.
She says at the time it didn’t affect her, too busy with her one-year-old, but she has thought more about it as time went on.
Her faith and her family’s support helped a lot.
“I don’t know what people do without faith,” she says.
“It’s something to hang on in bad times and in good times, you thank God for what He gives you.”
Kevin returned from the war in 1971 and she had her first daughter Louise a year later, then James in 1973 and Sarah in 1976.
In 1981, Monica and Kevin moved into their home in Nundah, where they still are today.
Monica got a job taking care of Sisters of Mercy at Emmaus Nursing Home in Nudgee.
Having grown up with nuns, she says, she thought “they had all the answers” but in that job, she learned they were as human as anyone and needed love and care as much as anyone.
She said it was “such a privilege” being with them in their final moments.
“I said that when I resigned, that it had been an honour and a pleasure to look after those women,” she said.
In 1984, she took up her position as a nurse at St Joseph’s Nudgee College.
She said she met many lovely boys in her time there and has been amazed at what some of them went on to accomplish in life.
She became a grandmother and retired from Nudgee in 2005.
But, while no longer a nurse, she never stopped caring for others.
She has four relics, three of which she has loaned to fellow parishioners who are facing illnesses and challenges in life.
The one still around her neck belongs to Padre Pio, but the saint closest to her heart is St Mary of the Cross MacKillop.
She says that’s because of what the Josephites had done for her own mum, raising her and caring for her.
“Mum was always such a good role model,” she said.
Her mum had “such a strong devotion” to St Mary of the Cross that it passed on in the family.
This April marks five years since Monica was diagnosed with breast cancer.
She says the diagnosis didn’t shake her faith at all, “not at all”.
“I get disappointed when people say their prayers weren’t answered,” she said, “because in the long run, somewhere along the way, those prayers will be converted into something.”
“If you get bad news, you just got to take it on the chin and say, ‘okay things will change’.”
Monica has a little notebook that she took to her chemotherapy sessions and on the last page, she has written the prayer of St Alphonsus Liguori.
It begins, “Lord Jesus, I love you more than I love myself”.
She says the prayer gave her comfort, knowing Jesus was always there for her.
Monica says she always looks for the face of Jesus in everyone she meets.
It can be hard not to be judgmental sometimes, she admits, but she remembers Jesus’ words to “love your neighbour”.
A good front garden helps keep her close to her neighbours.
Monica has a white chair in her front garden, which she calls her “prayer chair”.
Opposite is a small grotto with statues of the Virgin Mary and saints.
She loves to sit out there to pray and talk over the fence with her neighbours.
“All my life, I’ve had good family, good friends, good neighbours,” she says.
“I’ve had a stable situation – a life shared with a good husband, Kevin, and the children we’ve got and our beautiful grandchildren.
“My life has been very blessed.”
