One for Mom

**2026 Update**

I can always know when my mom died because of how old my son is.

That sounds so much worse on the screen than it did in my head, but it's true. 

2026 is a landmark year for this version of the McCaughey's of Stewart Manor. Our version of Francis McCaughey (of The McCaughey's of Stewart Manor) started high school this month, an event that has been on our radar since 2019 but provides a jarring arrival nonetheless. 

As a member of the class of 2030, Francis will be turning 14 this fall which brings my mind back to September of 2012. After a relatively brief but intense illness, my mom passed on September 21st, 2012, six weeks before Francis was born (my dad passed four weeks after he was born but that's whole other trauma blog. Actually, you can find that HERE and HERE :-)

To think she never met my sons is an indelible stain of my grief. I try not to think about it because it's just too hard. So today, on the anniversary of her passing, I was impelled to write this update which is when I saw the first line of the original post:

When my son is 14, I really hope he's not the way I was in 1994.

Well now my son is just about 14. Is he the way I was back in '94?

In some ways, Francis will forever be me. The name, the personality, the likeness, he's been very much been a bit of me his whole life. I imagine he always will be.

But on this day of reflection, as he starts this new chapter of his life I see another kid: a smart and kind kid with quiet confidence,  a quick wit. I like to think this is how my mom saw me. I didn't always see it in myself but I know she did, my never ending supporter. I wrote the following post on her first anniversary. I hope you read it and think of my mom. I don't do it nearly enough.

Thank you mom.

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When my son is 14, I really hope he's not the way I was in 1994.

It's not that I was "bad" kid, but instead I could have been accurately described as a a bit of a pain. In fact, I would attribute nearly all of my pre-teen transgressions to either pure stupidity or just waiting to get a laugh. Regardless, I must have be a handful for my parents especially my mom. I rarely had good grades and schools always seemed to be calling home about me, starting with Mrs. Devine in 5th grade and ending with Residential Life at Fordham. Throughout it all, my mom was always my greatest supporter. As I moved through high school and college she continually reminded me that, sooner or later, I would "get it together." When I got my Masters and started teaching, we were both able to smile that I finally had.

Last summer, my mom got sick. After a brief and difficult illness, she passed away on September 21st, one year ago today.

I've been avoiding writing this blog for 365 days. I wrote about my dad when he passed but have not been able to sit down and write about my mom. I couldn't bring myself to do it; it was just too hard.

There are things that I will never understand about my mom's death. I have a tough time accepting both how she went as well as when she went. The last few months of her life were not easy as we tried in vain to get her better. I will never accept that she didn't get the chance to meet her grandson,  my beautiful son, Francis. I often imagine the two of them together and how much she would have adored him and while it can make me smile, it also leaves me sad.

While things were difficult at the end, I can't let it define the memories I have of my  mom. Both of my parents were tremendously influential on my life and since they passed I have come to realize one very important thing: my father shaped the life I lead but my mother made me the person that I am. She was a wonderful, caring person who would do anything for you (unless you crossed her that is) and gave of herself to not only family and friends but strangers as well. She raised three children and managed to live with my father for almost 44 years, a challenge that I would put before any person. She had a career as a mom, secretary and grandmother while also finding time to volunteer at soup kitchens and beat lung cancer. My family and I met people at her wake who spoke of her as an amazing co-worker, neighbor and friend. We weren't surprised as much as we were happy to know that she nearly meant as much to others as she did to us.

She did everything for me, from the small but wonderful like writing my name on my lunch bags in calligraphy to the big and powerful like supporting me when times got tough. When I faced a major challenge in my teaching career she vowed to "write a letter" to the powers that be once I received my tenure. While she knew that I received my tenure (she was the first person I called) she never got a chance to write that letter before she got sick but it didn't matter. It was just one more example of her having my back, even though I was 30 years old and married.

As I write this long delayed entry, I realize that I cannot let the way that she died define the life that she lived. She was an amazing sister and daughter, wife, mother and friend. She taught me how to care for others, love my family and be strong in the face of overwhelming adversity. I think about her everyday and will always miss her but I am blessed to have had her for a mom.

Four Final Lessons from Mr. Seidel

My good friend and co-worker Joe Seidel passed unexpectedly on May 30th. The last month of the school year not only presented the challenge of mourning the loss of a close friend but also helping to shepherd hundreds of students through the loss of their favorite teacher.

I was given the honor to speak about Joe (or Mr. Seidel) at our graduation last week and am sharing my speech here on the blog. We're all going to miss Joe so much and if you didn't get a chance to know him, I think the following four lessons can introduce him to you.

You can find an amazing tribute put together by our school newspaper HERE

and Joe's appearance on my school based movie podcast where he spoke about his favorite movie, Jaws, HERE

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As we gather today to celebrate the wonderful achievements of the Class of 2026, we wanted to take a few minutes to recognize someone who is not with us today: Mr. Joseph Seidel

 

Having been friends with Mr. Seidel since our days teaching together in Brooklyn starting in 2015, I was devastated to learn of his passing just a few Saturdays ago.

 

After the initial, crushing shock and the phone calls to colleagues past and present to share the news, I thought of our school. More specifically I thought of our students.

 

I did this because I knew how much they cared for him and how important they were to him. How much YOU cared for him. How important YOU were to him.

Many of you were lucky enough to have him as a teacher during your freshman or junior year, while others knew him through his work with Public Forum Debate, his extra help sessions or one of the teachers scooping you ice cream after the APUSH exam.

 

For me, each week since his passing has brought a new reflection on Mr. Seidel’s life and the impact he had on our school. These reflections have led me to develop a few final lessons from Mr. Seidel that I would like to share with you today.

First, is the one that has been echoed throughout our school for the last three weeks: Lesson #1 is to Be Kind.

 

You’ve already been given this lesson so many times as a teenager in America in 2026. It was the topic of assemblies in middle school, or a cliché strewn across a wooden sign your mom bought on Etsy and hung in your kitchen. It was also a simple two word credo that Mr. Seidel lived out every day. It was what made him special. To be kind is simple and direct. To be kind means to care; care about everyone from your closest friend or family member to someone you just met. Check in with one another, give a warm greeting, let folks know you’re there; let folks know you care.  Be the shoulder that’s needed to lean on, the ear that can listen . Be kind.

Now we stray into advice that is often heard at a commencement addresses.

 

Lesson #2 is to follow your passions.

 

Mr. Seidel had a deep interest in so many things that he carried throughout his life. The fishing that he did with his father and grandfather led to a lifelong passion on the ocean where he caught massive blue fin tuna and was part of the team that broke the world record for the largest shark ever caught.

 

He loved baseball. He played it from little league through college. He coached his daughter’s softball teams. The passion with which he could discuss the hall of fame credentials of Billy Wagner or the bonehead moves made by the current front office of the Mets made our conversations so memorable.

 

Cars, cooking, and his beloved family all made his life so rich. So like Mr. Seidel, find what you love and let those things fill your days.

The Do Now for the next lesson is to close your eyes and think of the people who make up the story of your life.

 

Now that you have done that, lesson #3 is to be there for the people in your life.

 

Once you were in Mr. Seidel’s life you were there forever. You knew this because he was always there for you.

 

He invited colleagues past and present for barbeques. He ran the tailgate at our staff Mets game outing. He fixed flat tires and windshield wipers, cooked meals for people, provided rides when your car was in the shop. He texted all the mothers in his life “Happy Mother’s Day”. So many of you here have a story of when Mr. Seidel was there for you.  Be that person in the lives of others going forward.

 

Last summer my sons wanted to go fishing. I lacked both the equipment and know how to take them but I knew someone who did. I called Joe and got a reply to meet him at Bay Park the following morning; I was to bring the breakfast sandwiches and he would have everything else. He taught my boys (and me!) to fish and we had a great day. When cleaning out my garage last month I saw the rods we borrowed that day. When I told him I would get them back as soon as possible, he told me to keep them and to keep taking the boys fishing.

We reach the end of our lessons with the one that is a call to action.

 

Lesson #4 is to “Make Hay”

 

With origins in both the Bible and olde English writings, the proverb of “Make hay while the sun shines” is a lesson that has urged people to make the most of opportunities while they can for thousands of years.

 

In life before the efficiency of the mechanical reaper and mower (shout out APUSH content specific vocabulary) if a farmer did not take the opportunity to cut, dry and gather their hay with haste then that crop could be lost to the weather.

 

As you move through life, don’t lose your opportunities.

 

Making hay might be the expensive vacation or concert. Maybe the adventure of sky diving. But it doesn’t have to be. Sometimes it can just be a meal with friends.

 

As Mr. Seidel, Ms. Sardina and I were walking out of the building after the APUSH exam, just 6 weeks ago, Ms. Sardina asked if we wanted to grab lunch to mark the occasion. As always, Joe was an immediate yes but I found myself doing some quick social calculus.

 

It had been a long few weeks of work for me between APUSH and AP Seminar not to mention the 12 gallons of ice cream we had just scooped for the class of 2027 following the exam. Throw in my penchant for not quite being a social butterfly and I didn’t quite feel like going. However my quick calculus led me to say yes.

I’m so glad I did. We had a few laughs, decompressed after getting our latest students through the APUSH gauntlet and enjoyed each other’s company.

 

Say yes when you can. Do the thing.

 

Four final lessons from Mr. Seidel. Now can you apply them to your life?

 

For the non-teachers in the room, as the end of a lesson approaches, it is essential that teachers complete a check for understanding. Did the students actually “get” the content and skills covered that day? For our final lessons from Mr. Seidel there is only one way to find out.

 

The fist to five.

 

When I ask, I would like you to hold up the appropriate hand signal for your understanding of today’s lessons, with a fist meaning that you still need some help all the way up to a five which will let me know that you absolutely “got it”  

 

Are you ready? Class of 2026, families, guests and Townsend Harris staff…

 

Can you be kind, follow your passions, be there for the people in your life and make hay.

 

Let me get a fist to five.

 

It looks like Mr. Seidel taught you one more lesson.

 

Class of 2026: In the words of Mr. Seidel: Give ‘em hell.

 

Thank you

 

 

 

 

 

One Day in Clones

A few photos and thoughts from a remarkable, wet day in Clones. Click on each photo to enlarge.

The Diamond

We had excellent accommodations directly on the Diamond to watch everything from above while also having easy access in and out of the apartment. A big part of these experience was the pre-match scene on the Diamond and it didn't disappoint. 

5 Star Review for Diamond Apartments. 

DJ Provai in Clones

                    

The Walk

Of course the walk down Fermanagh Street to St. Tiernach's is the scene most captured and shared when talking about Final day in Clones. Got to the bottom of the street and the rain appeared for the first time.

The Park

St. Tiernach's Park is fantastic. No one is going to compare it to a modern venue and that's just fine.  From an outsiders perspective, the history of the GAA means the importance of venues like this. Side note, great Irish and GAA History can be found in Tim Par Coogan's The GAA and the War for Independence

Also in a time of World Cup tickets for a family of four costing thousands of dollars, our total cost was $105 including $11 juvenile tickets.

The energy on the hill was fantastic, blue and orange flares popping up throughout the game and the crowd was there at the right time. Between the colors and the noise it was defintely more of an Armagh crowd despite it being at Monaghan's home field. Monaghan once again showed great courage in fighting all day but just didn't have it in extra time and Armagh pulled away.

The teams marching behind the band is one of the great, unique traditions in the GAA. The singing of the national anthem in Irish by the thousands in attendance was also a special moment, connecting Gaelic games, the language and the history of the country.

But my god did it rain. The misery caught on the faces of Francis and Kate really nails that hour plus experience. It didn't rain the entire time but when it came, it poured. No matter how prepared you were, it was going to be a soaker. Also, we weren't prepared as Francis wondered aloud: why didn't we all get ponchos?? 

Boys struggled back to the apartment but hot showers and a few bags of chips made things better. Francis enjoying his first bag of Irish chips with salt and vinegar was an added bonus

It was a great day and just about 24 hours later I'm recounting it from our living room. Just one more piece to write about this experience  and that's about the town of Clones.

Pints, a Cemetery and a Man from Castleblayney

Quick thoughts from a busy 24 hours in Dublin.

As the boys have gotten into the GAA more, the desire for jerseys has increased exponentially. We visited the O'Neill's shop in Enniskillen last summer and made sure we hit the Dublin store this time. A good few finds with the discount racks being a a big hit. Definitely a cab ride out of the City Centre but recommended.

I think high expectations are generally a bad thing because they never seem to be met but our lunch in Dublin feature an exception. 

I'll leave it to Cassie Stokes and the good people of Dublin to expand more on John Kavanaugh's (aka The Grave Diggers) but it just might be the best Guinness I've ever had. Solid lunch and location adjacent to the gates of the historic Glasnevin Cemetery (hence the nickname) allows a chance to walk off the pints and visit the graves of the most important figures of the 1916 Rising and the independence movement. 

Pints and a cemetery might just be the most Irish thing ever.

Pints

                        Cemetery

                    

After dinner, as we dragged our tired bodies back to the hotel, a booming voice grabbed our attention.

"COME ON MONAGHAN!"

The voice came from a man walking home from work at a construction site. He saw the boys in their Monaghan gear and gave us a shout. We learned he was from Castleblayney originally but was now working in Dublin. He has been a the Athletic Grounds for the Derry match and shared the general sentiment circling the match: sure Armagh were favored but so were Derry. He'll be on a bus back home after work on Saturday and will be at the match on Sunday.

We're on that bus now (earlie than our Castleblayney friend), churning up the M1 on the way to Monaghan town and then Clones where in addition to catching up with family there will be...pints and a cemetery.

As I was saying....

So You're Telling Me There's a Chance

After briefly digesting the news that his chances of landing the girl were “…one in a million,” Lloyd Christmas paused and excitedly proclaimed, “So you’re telling me there’s a chance!” This is the type of optimism often needed in life: a hope that no matter the odds, things are still there to be had.

Before Ulster GAA finalized the venues and dates for this year’s championship, there wasn’t much reason for high hopes for Monaghan to be at St. Tiernach’s Park on 17 May.  Although they had played a tight match they very well could have won, a third consecutive League One loss to Dublin had Monaghan on the skids. Yes, there were injuries. Yes, the Scotstown players were missing after their run to the All-Ireland Club Semifinal, but with the 2024 All-Ireland Champions in Armagh and the 2025 All-Ireland finalists, Donegal, both in the province the road looked rough.

But when looking at the draw, and I had one thought: you’re telling me there’s a chance.

With Armagh and Donegal on the other half of the bracket, there were two matches standing between the Farney men and the final: a local clash with Cavan and a more daunting potential semifinal with 2023 Ulster Champions, Derry. While no GAA pundit, I viewed these games as winnable even as the League ended winless, with 7 straight defeats.

They came out flying in the first half of the quarterfinal against Cavan and did enough to get over the line, helped by a Man of the Match performance from Dessie Ward and two massive saves from Rory Beggan, including a penalty, proving his worth is much more than his booming kicks. A semifinal awaited against Derry, who throttled Antrim in their own quarterfinal.

We had booked our plane tickets weeks before and were already talking with people to secure tickets but after Cavan, I spoke with the boys: we’re one game away from Monaghan in the Ulster Final. We were already excited for the trip, but if Monaghan were there, it would be that much bigger.

Then came the first 60 minutes against Derry.

A text from my cousin said it all: “Monaghan are a disgrace. So poor.”

He wasn’t wrong. As the minutes melted away, they were 10 points down. Even in the new GAA world of the two-pointer, where no lead is totally safe, it seemed like Derry had it. But bit by bit, point by point, they climbed back into it. More heroics from Beggan (this time of the airborne variety, intercepting a kickout and feeding Micheál Bannigan in for a crucial goal) would eventually get them to within one. But as the hooter sounded with Derry up two points, it appeared to be over.

Until it wasn’t.

That man Beggan again, using his leadership and knowledge of the rule book to insist that Monaghan get the line ball they deserved, led to one of the great kicks you will ever see from Jack McCarron. The angle. The pressure. The poise. Off to extra time.

It ended in the most fitting way, Beggan doing what he does best: booming a kick from beyond the 45 to send Monaghan to Clones.

The boys and I absolutely lost it in our living room over 3,000 miles away. We were going to the Ulster Final, and now Monaghan was as well. Shocked, celebratory texts from cousins in Clones followed, along with an excitement that had to wait two more weeks.

The boys and Beggan (in the back) after the win!

Now they have Armagh.

A team that roughed them up on the same pitch in Clones to kick off the winless League 1 season.

A team that set Ulster Championship scoring records in dominant wins against Fermanagh and Down to reach this point.

A team that must feel its time has come after losing three straight Ulster Finals.

While this is a different Monaghan team than in January, with more players returning from injury each week, in some instances it’s also the same Monaghan team that we have seen over the years: tough, resilient, and never out of a fight.

The bookies have Armagh as heavy favorites, sitting at 1/5, but Ulster provides drama and surprise each year (see Down over Donegal), and odds like that?

They’re telling me there’s a chance.

The Road to Clones

The planning is done. The bags are packed. We're ready to go.

Every trip back "home" is a special one but the weekend ahead is one we've been talking about for months.

After a night in Dublin, we will head to Clones. Home to my aunts, uncles and cousins. Home to the Round Tower and the beautiful Ulster Canal (again). 

And since 1906, home to the Ulster Final.

I attended the Ulster Final with my dad and brother-in-law in 1995, a story I was lucky enough to share with Joe Finnegan on Northern Sound radio yesterday morning (you check it out HERE, thanks Joe!) In the 31 years since, I have followed the GAA from this side of the Atlantic, always aware of the Ulster Final and just how important it is to Clones.

During a visit last year, my cousin Eamon and I were out for a pint and over the course of the night the conversation with some locals turned towards the future of the Ulster Final in Clones. With the never ending saga of Casement Park we wondered just how long the final would remain in the town that has helped define the match for over a century.

It was at that point that I knew that my family had to come back for the final while we still could. Conversations were started, plans were mapped out and the wheels were in motion.

Tonight we leave for Clones and the Ulster Final.

I will be chronicling this trip here on the blog with plans to share our experience following the Championship from New York over the last few weeks, the excitement of the day in Clones and most importantly a call to keep the match where it belongs.

Let's Ride '25

I have written before about Bike MS. My diagnosis led to a lifestyle change that featured more physical activity and exercise. One of the early practices was bike riding which made feel better both physically and mentally. It also brought me to Bike MS, the nationwide event in which riders fundraise for the National MS Society.

I have completed six different bike MS events and each time I have thought of them as a celebration of life; a celebration of the fact that I'm still able to be active and do great things despite my illness. This year's event in New York City is 2 months away and it's around this time that I traditionally  begin my fundraising. After missing last year due to recovery from a tear in my carotid artery, (yeah that happened too) it's time for another celebration of life.

Except I don't want to do it this year. 

Over the past few months I have been struggling in a place that I haven't prior. While fatigue, neuropathy and assorted physical issues have been with me every day since 2016, the past few months have been new and challenging mental and emotional struggles.  While maneuvering my way through these difficult few months, I have tried to pinpoint why it is that I've been having these struggles. There are many answers to this question but the most direct one is that I'm tired. But that would be too simple.

I'm tired a lot because of, you know, the Multiple Sclerosis but in this case it's more of a long-term fatigue of my life with a chronic disease.

Chronic disease doesn't go away; it’s always there. 

August 30th marks the beginning of the 10th year since my diagnosis. When trying to derive a clever or engaging way to share this idea, I think of the beach. I think of the waves. Sometimes the water comes in and sometimes the water pulls out. Sometimes the waves are gentle and sometimes they are violent. But that water and those waves are there day after day. And after 3,000 plus days of those waves, I’m tired.

I'm tired of waking up every day and not knowing whether it's going to be a good day or a bad day. I'm tired of being irritable or difficult with my wife and sons because I once again feel like shit. I'm tired of having to use the bathroom all the time because of issues with my bladder. I'm tired of being too embarrassed to say that out loud. I'm tired because of the invisible nature of this disease which leads to people not really recognizing just how sick I am. I'm tired because I want to live a long life but the one that I see in front of me presents more challenges that I know will already be there. I'm tired.

So I don't want to ride this year.

Except I have to.

I have to because I can't just quit. I have to because it's the right thing to do for me, my body and my brain. I have to because sometimes you just have to stop complaining and get on the damn bike. I have to because your generosity has helped me raise over $20,000 for over these past 6 years. I have to because if I don't, then the disease wins.

And I’m tired of that.

I will be riding in Bike MS NYC on Sunday October 19th. Any and all donations that can be made here are greatly appreciated as I fight the daily fight with the one million other Americans living with MS. Your support and the work of the National Multiple Sclerosis Society helps to make life better for us.

Thank you.

-Frank