A Letter to Mam at 100

Just a wee hello to wish you a very happy 100th birthday mam. I’d hoped you’d have made it to collect your cheque from the President, but it wasn’t to be. We often joked about it, but you did say it would never happen. Mam, you said a lot of things which I’ve only really taken on board over the past five years. You’ve no idea the number of times I’ve heard you say things in my head, from over the years and you were spot on. You were one clever lady, and I miss you so very much. I do think mam you have to live the life to learn – but you were wise way beyond your time here. Think I’m probably a slow learner mam.

I’m sure you know what has unfolded since your passing. You had no idea how you held the Newman Clann together and without you it has literally crumbled, broken mam beyond repair, I think. (but I hope not) You were the strongest link mam. I know you felt alone, you had lost everyone you loved dearly, and you wondered why you were left. I think you were left here for us mam and we just didn’t know how precious that time was. We squandered it badly. But like I said, you have to live to learn.

Eamonn has been looking for memories from everyone. We could write a book, couldn’t we, with good ones and bad ones and in between ones. We had them all mam, but the bad weren’t as bad when I had you to help me through and the good ones were so so special when you were here.

You left so quickly in the end mam, I didn’t get to say a proper goodbye. I know we had talked about it often, but I never could allow myself to admit that one day you wouldn’t be there – if I didn’t say it, I thought it wouldn’t happen – well not until now mam. And its still sinking in, and its still so raw and painful even though its nearly five years.

I won’t be sharing all my memories with everyone mam. They belong to me and you. But every day I think of you, and every day I mention you, and mam every day I miss you. We all have our own memories in our own hearts, and we will work from them with whatever time we have. So, mam, can I wish a very happy 100th birthday to a very special Mam. I hope you found everything you believed in and have been reunited with the people who were so special to you. If you can help us in any way feel free to lend a hand, like you always did.

Love you,
Anne x

Memories of and with Mam

Mam you told me of when you were tired, expecting Seán and you’d lie down in bed for a short while and I’d roll in beside you with my bottle – you’d get up and I wouldn’t be happy when I’d wake up and you were gone. I was like your shadow.

I remember the brightness of the kitchen when we came back from Cavan and the sound of Val Doonican singing Walk Tall Walk Straight and look the world right in the eye on the radio on top of the cabinet. And the record player sitting in the middle of the table with Sugar Sugar and of course Lovely Leitrim and Larry Cunningham one of your favourites, Gene Stuart and the Mighty Avons and I’m just lucky I guess, and One day at a Time from Gloria – words you often used mam. Lovely memories from a long time ago.

Helping to mix the pancake batter and tired arm making sure no bubbles and no lumps but it was worth it when the finished product landed on the plate with lashings of butter.

How you loved to write poems mam especially if Kerry won Sam. We’d write them out in neat writing, once, twice, three times …. And send them off to the Evening Press. I liked to draw /copy the picture from the Irelands Own of Ms Flanagan on her bike but I hated writing neatly and straight on the postcards. But we all loved to see our names on a Saturday night when daddy came home with the paper and the box of goodies in the back of the van. We’d be sitting there on the couch waiting patiently and sometimes not so patiently, us all bathed and hair washed and house nice and tidy when he came home.

During summer carrying water round the front to wet the flowers – and what a flower display you used to have, the lupins, the pansies, the dahilas and so many many more. Bees buzzing an butterflies fluttering all around a real eco spot – unfortunately I cant compete with you mam – didn’t inherit any of your patience and perseverance and skills for growing, nurturing or creating all kinds of works of arts and craft.

Rolling on the years and coming home from Community school at lunchtime to egg in a cup and batch bread. Or scone bread and a nice cup of tea. Nothing nicer to keep you going until dinner.

Getting up on Christmas morning and having the loveliest of bed jackets – all be it delivered by Santa from Mrs Clause – thank you for the memories.

Combing your long hair and putting waves in the front. You’d let me comb and plait your hair and you’d tell stories of long ago in Cavan.

I remember you working so hard in Cavan mam. I didn’t realise it at the time but now I understand how tiring and hard it was for you keeping us in line and helping out with all that was going on there. Lovely memories of holidays there mam – a freedom/escape Ive never got anywhere else – never again.

Years went by so very quick mam and little did I think I’d end up back in Loskey. But I did and I had the best life ever there with you, and your support and care for the kids was immeasurable. I could never repay you for your help, your love and kindness to us all. I used to ask about going to Cavan in later years and you said no. I didn’t understand why, but now I know mam – its hard when there’s nothing but memories left. But memories are good.

Mam, we had many adventures as people say now and I hope you enjoyed them a much as I did. We got to Sneem, your beloved Kerry , to Knock and Lourdes and your trips with Lily to Medjugorje and to Fatima and the Holy Land. Our trip to Tenerife, to Spain and our trips to London were always so so special. We did enjoy the Bingo there. We never made it to Lough Derg, I think I was afraid of that one but Ive been once only the day trip. Maybe next year God willing I might try the long weekend. You said it was tough so I’m thinking its tough. I’m not made of as strong stuff as you were.

Mam the endless Feiseanna, all over. Poems, stories, dancing, tin whistle we steeped the Sperrin kids in our language and culture – even down to take on the Dubs. We worked hard and they worked hard. You loved it all and when you couldn’t go you waited patiently at home for news and lit a candle for little people to do well. Thank you. You were there for every achievement in the Sperrins story mam and you played such a big part in getting those achievements. And they are all so aware and grateful and lucky that they had you in their lives for so long.

Mam I’ve started this so many times and I have so many thoughts going through my head that I couldn’t record them all. My recent memories of you at home and in the hospital. I know you didn’t want to be there but with the pain you were in I couldn’t cope. I’m so sorry but I couldn’t. You did eventually accept the hospital and the visits and on good days it was lovely, but on the days when you were in pain it was hard, and the days you wanted to come home and I couldn’t take you, it was hard. I wrote so much when you were in the hospital mam, notes, cards, and letters. Your read them all and you loved to hear what was happening with everyone. I kept them for a while mam but then I burned them as they were just reminders that you were gone.

So mam, I think of you every day, talk to you every day and I hope you are happy in heaven. If anyone deserves it you do.