seanmháthair

This story began, as I was writing the post below. I started reflecting on my great-grandmothers life, and – well, read below.

I learned American English, like any other child growing up
in America, but I was astonished at the difference, when I read my
great-grandmothers autobiography. She was born in America, but her mother
was from Ireland, so she was taught old world English (I don’t like using that
phrase, but it works.) and Irish. She passed away, when I was in my
teens.

I remember her wake, like it was yesterday. It was raining on that dreary afternoon in
May, not a deluge of rain, just enough to soak your clothes. All of the women in the family made of for
the rain, with their flood of tears, while the men, including us lads, held
back our whimpers.

Our family is large and spread throughout the United
States. I met cousins, Aunts, and Uncles
that day from New York, Rhode Island, Maryland, Virginia, North Carolina, South
Carolina, Georgia, and Arizona. I’m sure
I still have relatives in Ireland, but it’s a major undertaking to go back that
far in the family tree. I met some
intriguing characters that afternoon that I have never forgotten. I still keep up with my cousins up north, but
I’ve not talked to the cousin out west in ages.

She was an exuberant lady. Her fire and zeal for life never faded. I can recall the last time I visited her. She was lying in a hospital bed, crying at
the nurse to get her some real food. Even in her late 90s, she demanded fried eggs, bacon, sausage, grits,
and a cup of tea. She insisted, even in
her condition, that we sit and have a talk. She knew exactly what was bearing on my soul. I could hide things from mother and
grandmother, but never great-grandmother.

We had a cup of tea that afternoon, had a few laughs at the
expense of my Mum, and she dried my eyes on several occasions. She, my seanmháthair, grabbed my face with both of her old and
frail hands, looked into my eyes, and said, “Sean (That’s what she called me), I
want you to remember something”.

“Yes Ma’am”, I replied, while sniffling.

“You are a special young man. You see things in this world that no one else
will ever see. Don’t let anyone take
that away from you, for there will be times, when you’ll need strength, a
helping hand, someone to mend your glorious little heart, and someone to give
you a swift kick in the bum, when you do wrong. I’ll be there for all of that, Sean. I’ll be the wind, whistling through the wheat fields, the crackling of
leaves under your feet, the effigies you envision in the clouds, and I’ll
be the fragrance you intake from flowering lilacs”, She muttered, as she squeezed
my cheeks and smiled.

More to come!

I’ll be back later to add to this story, but I’ve got to go
watch The Crying Game, before Brian strangles me!