Molly Shugrue, 26; lived on own terms despite illness
A solitary line of dialogue was all Molly Shugrue needed to establish her presence during a high school performance of "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest." The sentence contained an eyebrow-raising vulgarity familiar to those who know the book or its dramatic adaptations.
"She had one line and it just brought down the house," said Page Hurley Shugrue, whose daughter invested her character with such humanity that a drama coach later remarked: "There's no such thing as a small part for Molly Shugrue."
An artist who began studying at the Museum School while growing up in Boston, Ms. Shugrue was diagnosed with schizoaffective disorder, a mental illness that interrupted the course of her life while she was attending college. Again and again she returned to the artistic pursuits that sustained her and suffered medical setbacks nearly as often.
"There were two Mollys," her mother said. "There was a Molly before her illness and a Molly after her illness."
A year ago, Ms. Shugrue moved from Duxbury to Los Angeles, where she suffered a seizure on Jan. 7. Her mother believes she forgot to take anti-seizure medication that controlled side effects from the other powerful medications she needed to live independently. Though Ms. Shugrue's boyfriend called 911, her mother said, the seizure led to cardiac arrest.
The Los Angeles County Department of Coroner called the death a suicide due to multiple drug intoxication, but the Shugrue family is challenging the ruling. Ms. Shugrue's psychiatrist "said she was never suicidal," her mother said. "Here's a person who chose life. She was out there to have a life."
Before dying at 26, Ms. Shugrue had been painting street scenes of the cars, pavement, and distant downtown skyline visible from the window of her fifth-floor bedroom in Los Angeles. Donated by her family, one such painting hangs in a public area of the residence building where she went into cardiac arrest, her mother said.
During a visit in December, she took her daughter "out on a buying spree and got all sorts of art supplies." These tools had fit comfortably in Ms. Shugrue's hands for most of her life. "I think art was her salvation," her mother said. "It was the only thing in the end she really could do."
One self-portrait shows Ms. Shugrue standing beneath a bright orange sun, hair dramatically swept from her face, her lips red, her dress green and blue. Page Shugrue used the self-portrait on cards she had printed, jotting notes inside to console those who expressed sadness and loss over her daughter's death.
Mary Elizabeth Shugrue, who was always known as Molly, grew up on Beacon Hill. She attended Josiah Quincy Elementary School in Chinatown and Boston Latin School, and she acted in children's productions. She studied dance and was adept at computers, then began creating artwork at Boston Latin while studying at the Museum School.
Transferring from Boston Latin to the Dublin School in New Hampshire, she shared valedictorian honors with another student at graduation, her mother said.
At first, Ms. Shugrue seemed to simply transplant her energetic life to Skidmore College during freshman year. Then one of her grandmothers died. Afterward, signs of the illnesses she would endure began to appear.
Manic episodes gave way to self-imposed isolation in her college room. She cut off all her hair. Diagnosed at first with bipolar disorder, Ms. Shugrue later began hearing voices.
"What's so hard is that there's such misinformation for people," her mother said of the attempts by Ms. Shugrue and her family to grasp what was happening. Still, she said, "Molly was always a fighter, and she definitely didn't want to have a life like that."
Ms. Shugrue left Skidmore and returned to her family, living in Duxbury and commuting to study at the Museum School. She produced short programs for a nonprofit cable-access network. And she struggled with the diminished prospects that often accompany a serious mental illness.
"Your hopes change, your expectations change," her mother said of Ms. Shugrue and others similarly diagnosed. "These people are bright and they know they're missing something, and that's the hardest thing in the world."
In January 2007, Ms. Shugrue wanted to live on her own and moved to Los Angeles. Tribulations awaited there, too. She disappeared for a while. Once located she found her footing again, moving into a subsidized residence where she decorated her room with draperies and her paintings.
"I think her legacy is that she did what she could do with a terrible setback in life," her mother said. "She was hardworking, brave, and she made the best of a very bad situation. Even at the end, when she spread her wings and went to LA, she wanted to be like you or me, she wanted a life. I really admired her for that. I admired her for wanting to be a human being."
In addition to her mother, Ms. Shugrue leaves her father, Edward of Duxbury; three sisters, Rosamond of West Tisbury, Hillary of Los Angeles, and Whitney Shugrue Hermann of Arlington Heights; and a brother, Edward III of New York City.
A memorial service will be held at 2 p.m. Saturday in Josiah Quincy Elementary School in Chinatown. 