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Thankyou Errol
I lost my beautiful mother 7 years ago <3
My lovely mother-in-law died last month <3
I'm not a mother......... gave up trying when I was 42.
<3
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The Final Farewell.
(A Personal Perspective - something I put in writing elsewhere last year).
"People still put money aside for their funeral, almost before any other consideration. And the importance of the rites and rituals that shape a family funeral continue to retain an extraordinary loyalty". (Western People 30.06.2011).
This headline in an Irish provincial newspaper caught my eye. Some who know me think I’m a bit weird for occasionally speaking of death & funerals. Perhaps it is my way of not bottling up a few fairly recent siblings death experiences.
Grieving presents itself in many forms & we deal with it in various ways. Some of my conversational comments could be construed in a frivolous manner. Not so. Nobody should speak ill of the dead.
The experts say that it is good to grieve & who are we, mere mortals, to disagree. History books tell us that Queen Victoria did just that for many years following the passing in 1861 of her beloved Albert, Prince Consort. It is said that she never really recovered her true personality after his death. The Queen herself, an only child, lived to a grand old age of 82, dying in 1901, having produced nine children.
From the moment we are born, inevitably death becomes our greatest enemy & the eventual winner at the end of life’s battle on this earth, despite our heads being continually stuck in the trough of survival. Sarcastically, we are sometimes reminded that Kings, Queens & Prime Ministers die just as thoroughly as the poor homeless person on the street. Nobody lives for ever. Such are some of the joys & pains of living.
As I sit here typing this article at a reasonable pace with the one good finger while racking my poor brain trying to think of something to say, there is a Memorial Card standing on my desk facing me relating to my mum who died in 2004, aged 89. Born near Bohola, Co Mayo, she was the last of her five siblings to pass away & she used to ask me occasionally during her final few but happy years in a nursing home - “The rest have gone - why am I still here?” My frequent answer was “Are you in a hurry to join them?”. ‘No’ was her regular reply with a laugh & the subject was not mentioned again that day.
Included in mum’s Memorial Card are some of the words of a well known Irish ballad entitled ‘Oh To Be In Doonaree’. The reason these words were chosen by us, her four sons & one daughter, reflected the fact she regularly sang this lovely ballad to herself or hummed it quietly as she went about her household duties. It’s the sort of thing that sticks in the memory following a loved one passing away. And she was a lovely singer plus a funny mimic to boot, although she’d never admit such.
Like all Irish farmer’s wives in the area & in the absence of mechanical assistance, her work was not limited to the house. She laboured hard in the fields too, along with dad & us - her children, saving the oats, barley & hay. She did most of the milking of the cows by hand & feeding of the calves. And on top of all that, she often jokingly remarked, she’d then return to the house where she would cook the meals for us - her growing family. Hard working individual indeed was she although her town cousins may not have appreciated her vast range of duties.
I never remember her being sick & I doubt if her doctor ever darkened our doorway. But that was the way then & may still be so of ladies in Ireland who are married to farmers. It was nothing unusual at all, certainly not in Co Mayo - one of the better counties of the Irish Republic, where she & dad brought us into this world, watched with the usual parental pride & worry as we matured unscathed to adulthood.
Death usually comes unannounced & many die without even knowing the name of the disease that brought an end to life. In my mum’s case, it was simply old age & was expected. She had a peaceful death, according to the wonderful care staff in the Queen of Peace Nursing Home in the village of Knock. During her few years there, she made loads of friends among her fellow residents, male & female, and was respected greatly by her carers. What a relief to us, her children, that she was well looked after, both physically & spiritually, in her final years and, more importantly, she felt very relaxed being there. She was good company & a smashing conversationalist who could keep words flowing in times of quiet.
She was a great reader all her life & she had a keen interest too in the UK Royal Family. This interest stemmed for the fact that her first born son, my eldest brother, was born in 1947 and Prince Charles was born in 1948. As she used to remark, she compared notes on the upbringing & life style of the Royals. Well, we are all allowed some dreams, are we not? Dr Martin Luther King had a dream too & his death in 1968 was totally unexpected.
Strangely enough, in all my years, I have never attend a funeral in any Irish city. So, I cannot comment about how things are done there. In the countryside however, arrangements become fairly personal in that the whole family & close neighbours become involved in various funeral activities, as happened in my mum‘s case.
The local undertaker we used to organise my mum’s funeral was a longstanding family friend. His younger brother was in my class at Senior School & it is always nice to have familiar faces around or in charge at such sad events.
As I intimated earlier, it is one of the most familiar traditions in Co Mayo & elsewhere in Ireland, no doubt, to have immediate family members closely involved in proceedings. Her body was laid out by the undertaker in an open coffin inside the lovely little chapel attached to the Nursing Home. She was dressed in her best clothes. Relatives, friends & neighbours called there to pay their respects to mum & to comfort her off-springs - us. It really was an opportunity to celebrate the life of a lovely person, as all mothers are & to mark her final departure. The atmosphere was respectful & peaceful despite the occasional sobs of those remembering her in happier times.
The following morning, her remains were removed to her parish church of St Joseph in Aghamore where burial would take place in the local cemetery following Requiem Mass. This is the Church she attended weekly from when she married dad in 1945. Her four sons - us, were privileged to carry her coffin from the Hearse to this Church where several of us participated in the moving service. It wasn’t easy to keep the tears at bay, which men are supposed to do - hearts are not so hard really.
Following the Church service, we four once again lifted her coffin shoulder-high walking from the Church & lead the rest of the many mourners for the half-mile journey behind the empty hearse to the nearby cemetery where she was laid to rest beside her husband, our dad, who died in 1975.
Gone but not forgotten - may they both continue to rest in peace. Amen.
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Give Them the Flowers Now
Closed eyes can't see the white roses,
Cold hands can't hold them, you know,
Breath that is stilled cannot gather
The odours that sweet from them blow.
Death, with a peace beyond dreaming,
It's children of earth doth endow;
Life is the time we can help them,
So give them the flowers now!
Here are the struggles and striving,
Here are the cares and the tears;
Now is the time to be smoothing
The frowns and the furrows and fear,
What to closed eyes are kind sayings?
What to hushed heart is deep vow?
Naught can avail after parting,
So give them the flowers now!.
Just a kind word or a greeting;
Just a warm grasp or a smile~
These are the flowers that will lighten
The burdens for many a mile.
After the journey is over
What is the use of them; how
Can they carry them who must be carried?
Oh, give them the flowers now!
Bloom's from the happy heart's garden
Plucked in the spirit of love;
Blooms that are earthly reflections
Of flowers that blossom above.
Words cannot tell what a measure
Of blessing such gifts will allow
To dwell in the lives of many,
So give them the flowers now!
Poem by Leigh M. Hodges
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Just a thoough for all those lovely ladies who have never been mothers in the biological sense but have been a wonderful influence on our lives.
And many will be so modest that they have no idea how they have eased our way in this world. God bless them all on Mothering Sunday. And heartfelt thanks :-D <3
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Remembering my dear Mum on Mothers Day
Doris Rosetta 22.1.1918 - 10.5.2003
Love you lots
Linda xx
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I am thinking of 2 boys who lost their dad when they were 5 and 3 and their mum last Easter when they were 12 and 10 - they must be feeling it today.
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YOU WERE THERE...
You were there when we took our first steps,
And went unsteadily across the floor.
You pushed and prodded: encouraged and guided,
Until our steps took us out the door...
You worry now "Are they ok?"
Is there more you could have done?
As we walk the paths of our unknown
You wonder"Where have my children gone?"
Where we are is where you have led us,
With your special love you showed us a way,
To believe in ourselves and the decisions we make.
Taking on the challenge of life day-to-day.
And where we go you can be sure,
In spirit you shall never be alone.
For where you are is what matters most to us,
Because to us that will always be home...
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It has been lovely this morning to have mothers day greetings from my own children, but I am so sad that i can't speak to my own mum who died in 2009, i still miss her so much
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It's been over 30 years since you left me and I still miss you every day.
God Bless you Mum
Much love to you as always <3 <3
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Missing my Nan today and every day. Missing my children also x
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