Nuala's 80th Birthday

Back when a small cottage was a newlywed couple's home, my mother Nuala was born in Ireland.

    

Her grandmother, born Ellen Ellis, was her grandfather's second wife. She encouraged the family to buy land as soon as they were able. Her father Eddie and her mother, also Ellen but always called Nellie, had nine children after her.

My mother went to America and lived with Uncle Brian and Aunt Regina, along with her sister Etta.

There she met my dad and they decided to get married. Her Shower was held at Uncle Brian's house in the Bronx.

They moved to Germany after they married as Dad was in the Army- I loved the car they had there.

  

They went back to Ireland for Chris' wedding.

Chris got all the dresses and the shoes from Mom, who had used them all in her wedding the previous year.

Mom, along with Gay and Ann, were the bridesmaids.

Mom also spent time with my dad's family in Dublin.

Mom with Pat and Ned

Ann arriving in Germany

Mom's sister Ann visited my parents in Germany.

 

Mom's parents came to America for a visit after Dad was discharged and they all visited Washington DC.

Dee and Mom in Uncle Brian's yard.

Mom and Dad lived close to Dad's parents and his siblings- This is Mary T's Birthday party at the apartment on 190th Street off University.

 

This is mom and me on my Christening day

One of my favorite pictures with Mom, but she hated the color of her hair at the time.

My brother's first Christmas.

Mom always had a ton of kids in our house.

The Nativity Play in Brooklyn

 Cape Cod summer

Visiting Ohio

For Mom it was all about family.

Mac and Monica wed

 

Christmas in Yonkers

 With Dad's mom and sisters

Christmas in the Bronx

My sister's wedding

Eddie Keith and Mom

 
Mom with her mom, Nellie and sister Rita at Colleen's wedding in Ireland.

My mom died on Christmas day just after turning 64. It is hard to believe how long she has been gone. Hard being without her.

I love you, Mom. Happy Birthday.

Zimbabwe one year later

Harare, Zimbabwe (CNN)We were standing in the square outside Parliament in downtown Harare on Tuesday when word started spreading. A woman ran up to me and asked, "Is he gone? Is he really gone?"

Most Zimbabweans have only ever known one president. Robert Gabriel Mugabe, 93, ruled this country with a tight grip. He never tolerated dissent, and it was ordinary people who paid the price of his 37-year reign.

The army seized control of the country and put Mugabe under house arrest a week ago, but the "Old Man," as he has become known, had still refused to quit.

Zimbabweans were girding themselves for a protracted and bitter impeachment battle as Parliament convened to oust their stubborn leader on Tuesday.

It has been a year since Mugabe was removed from power, but the same systems are in place and the same lack of accountability is present. Prices are up and all the promises of renewal made one year ago have  yet to take hold.

Maybe the coming year will bring better results?

I would like to see Zimbabwe return to being the bread basket of Africa- it will take time and investment and some serious movement by the government, but I believe they can get there. Not overnight, maybe not in the next decade. But I remain hopeful/

Phlebotomy

At six am on November 19, 1987, I was at Bellevue Hospital for my morning job as a Phlebotomist. My friends, Chris and Karen, helped me get the job a couple of months before and I was still getting used to the 6am-8am shift. But it paid $10/hr and as a pre-nursing student, it was good money. And I loved the work.

I was assigned to 12 East that morning, a floor I had not worked on before. And I admit, I was distracted, as I had an Anatomy and Physiology test that morning at 8 am, so I needed to finish on time. I was halfway through my blood list when I came to an isolation room. This was in the days before The Occupational Safety and Health Administration (OSHA) had sharps containers and boxes of gloves in every room.

I had a small sharps box on my tray of supplies, which I left on the floor outside the isolation room, taking in only the items I needed to draw the man’s blood.

The man was a young old man, in that he was weak and thin and frail. But he wasn’t even 30 yet. He didn’t respond to my questions, but his bracelet matched my orders so I got started and got the blood I needed without difficulty. 

I always disconnected the last vacutainer tube before withdrawing the needle as I felt it was less likely to leave a bruise that way, so the hub of the needle was full of his blood as I stabbed my index finger trying to recap the needle.

I didn’t want to walk through the doorway with the needle exposed in case I might stick someone. I had never in my on the job training been told not to recap. Crazy! I took off my glove and stared at my finger.

“Crap, I hope he doesn’t have Hepatitis” is what immediately ran through my head.

I went to the nurses’ station, found his chart and read “PCP” and couldn’t figure out why Angel dust was a medical diagnosis, and “Toxoplasmosis” wondering how this poor man got the disease pregnant women get from cats, when the nurse asked me what I was doing.

“I got stuck with his needle and am trying to find out if he has…”

By the time I got to that part of my sentence the nurse had dragged me to the closest sink, turned on the hot water and was pumping my finger, saying, “Honey, didn’t anyone tell you this is the AIDS floor?”

Holy sweet mother of God…. AIDS?!?!?

I have no memory of going back to our workroom or who said what to whom to put the wheels in motion. I could hardly catch my breath for the terror I felt.

My friend Chris walked me to my Anatomy lab and I explained I needed to go to NYU for testing and a Hep B vaccination (I had only has two of the three in the series) and as I said the words I heard the shake in my voice as tears welled in my eyes. My instructor told me to do the things I needed to do, that she would reschedule the test for me.

Chris walked me to NYU and waited while the testing schedule was explained to me- today, six weeks, three months, six months and one year. It was 1987 so that was all they could do. This was early in the epidemic and I was absolutely terrified. 

I was lucky. I did not sero-convert. I will never know if I just didn’t get a big enough dose from the blood in the hub, or if the amazing nurse who pumped my finger saved my life but I was spared. And AIDS became real to me in a way it wasn’t before.

The patient died two weeks after my finger stick. God rest his soul.

Tommy Rowles (AKA Uncle Harry)

Tommy Rowles (AKA Uncle Harry) came to America 3 month after the Kellys settled in the Bronx and was living in a Rooming house on 86^th street. He called the Kellys, who had moved to Valentine Avenue and Granny said he should come and live with them. Tommy did, and stayed for a long while- at least 2 years, according to Brendan.

When he lived in the Bronx he and Brendan and their lads hung out at Good Time Charley's, Dirty Nellie's on Kingsbridge Road and the Beehive around Kingsbridge Road near the VA and Jewish Home.

The living arrangement came to an abrupt end after the “Noxzema incident”. 

Noxzema came in a heavy blue glass jar, and was kept in the medicine cabinet. The heavy jar was knocked into the cabinet by parties unknown (Martin Kivlehan was Brendan’s guess) and it knocked a small chunk out of the porcelain bowl.

The responsible individual picked up the knocked out piece, smeared it with Noxzema and fit it back in place. Escape was made by the culprit unnoticed.

Pop Kelly used the toilet, and when he flushed, the piece gave way and the dirty water flooded the bathroom.

Nobody fessed up, and poor Tommy was blamed and he was moved out shortly after. It is my understanding that on moving out, Granny gave him back half the rent he had been paying over the time living with them- she did that for all those who lived there. To give them a start.

My first memories of Tommy have Liz in them, too- and the lovely apartment they had near the reservoir. I remember how they came every Labor Day to hang out with us at 251. How Dad called him Harry, or Harold, so often that the name turned up on a bowling trophy or two. How well he danced- God the man could dance. And he was so, so kind.

I remember we needed him to leave the room- I have no idea what for- so Ellen said she was going to breast feed… he fled, so embarrassed. And not once, but twice, he got caught in a Dee work lie.

Who can forget him calling Nuala asking how Brendan was (after Dee told her boss Dad was near death from a heart attack) and mom responding. “He is the same ^&*%#$ he ever was.”

I will always miss Uncle Harry- even though he was not my uncle and his name wasn’t Harry. Rest in Peace, sweet man.

Uncle Fitz and my sister Ellen

My brother and I were chatting, sharing old family stories and he talked about a book Uncle Fitz read to him and Ellen every night when Fitz and Gay were staying with us at 251.

While I remembered Fitz meeting Ellen and Eddie each day after school and walking them home, I did not recall the book at all. Eddie said something the book going missing and he wondered what had happened to the book.

I had a suspicion, and called Ellen. In response to my query, she sent the above photo- she still had the beloved book in her possession.

When I told my brother that Ellen had the book, his response was "of course she does."

The end of The Great War

In researching our family tree, I found the records from my father's uncle, John.

The second born son of John and Margaret Kelly, John went into the
 British army as a teenager.

He and my grandfather joined The Princess Victoria's Royal Irish Fusiliers. John was a machine gunner and Pop was mounted lancer according to my father.

The only picture I had ever seen that spoke to John's life was of his grave in Northern France where he was shot and killed in 1917.

John Kelly's Death Penny from WWI

When I was a child, my father showed me the Next of Kin Memorial Plaque that his father's family received when John died. Nicknamed "Death Pennies", every casualty in the war had this memorial plaque sent to their family.

My grandfather survived the war and told only a few happier stories of adventure. I don't remember him ever mentioning his brother or his sacrifice.  Both of these brave men are on my mind 100 years after the end of the war.

For more information go to:  Royal Irish Fusiliers during WW1

The Regiment raised a total of 14 Battalions and was awarded 40 Battle Honours and 2 Victoria Crosses, losing 3,330 men during the course of the First World War.

1st Battalion
04.08.1914 Stationed at Shorncliffe as part of the 10th Brigade of the 4th Division and then moved to York and then Harrow.
23.08.1914 Mobilised for war and landed at Boulogne and engaged in various actions on the Western Front including;
1914
The Battle of Le Cateau, The Battle of the Marne, The Battle of the Aisne, The Battle of Messines 1914. 
1915
The Second Battle of Ypres.
1916
The Battle of Albert, The Battle of Le Transloy. 
1917
The First Battle of the Scarpe, The Third Battle of the Scarpe. 
03.08.1917 Transferred to the 107th Brigade of the 36th Division.
08.02.1918 Transferred to the 108th Brigade of the same Division.
1918
The Battle of St Quentin, The Actions at the Somme Crossings, The Battle of Rosieres, The Battle of Messines, The Battle of Bailleul, The First Battle of Kemmel Ridge, The Battle of Ypres, The Battle of Courtrai, The action of Ooteghem. 
11.11.1918 Ended the war at Mouscron N.E. of Tourcoing, Belgium.

2nd Battalion
04.08.1914 Stationed at Quetta, India.
Oct 1914 Returned to England arriving at Winchester to join the 82nd Brigade of the 27th Division.
19.12.1914 Mobilised for war and landed in France and engaged in various actions on the Western Front including;
1915
The action of St Eloi, The Second Battle of Ypres.
Nov 1915 Deployed to Salonika and engaged in actions against the Bulgarian Army including;
1916
The capture of Karajakois, The capture of Yenikoi.
02.11.1916 Transferred to the 31st Brigade of the 10th Division.
Sept 1917 Deployed to Egypt and Palestine as part of the Palestine campaign.
Third Battle of Gaza, Capture of the Sheria Position, Capture of Jerusalem, Defence of Jerusalem, Tell ‘Asure, Battle of Nablus.
31.10.1918 Ended the war at Masudiye N.W. of Nablus, Palestine.

3rd (Reserve) Battalion
04.08.1914 Stationed at Armagh and then moved to Lough Swilly and then Londonderry.
April 1915 Moved to Buncrana, County Donegal.
Nov 1916 Moved to Clonmany Co. Donegal.
April 1918 Moved to England stationed at Rugeley, Cannock Chase and absorbed the 4th Battalion.
July 1918 Moved to Bawdsey, Suffolk as part of the West Riding Reserve Brigade.
Oct 1918 Moved to Southend.

4th (Extra Reserve) Battalion
04.08.1914 Stationed at Cavan and then moved to Belfast and Carrickfergus, County Antrim.
Mar 1915 Moved to Buncrana, County Donegal and then Belfast.
April 1916 Moved to Dublin.
Nov 1917 Moved to Ballincollig, Cork as part of the 25th Reserve Brigade.
April 1918 England stationed at Rugeley, Cannock Chase and absorbed by the 3rd Battalion.

5th & 6th (Service) Battalion
Aug 1914 Formed at Armagh as part of the First New Army (K1) and then moved to Dublin to join the 31st Brigade of the 10th Division.
April 1915 Moved to Basingstoke.
July 1915 Embarked for Gallipoli from Liverpool.
07.08.1915 Landed at Suvla Bay and engaged in various actions against the Turkish Army including;
Battle of Sari Bair, Capture of Chocolate Hill, Hill 60.
Oct 1915 Deployed to Salonika and engaged in actions against the Bulgarian Army including;
The Battle of Kosturino, Retreat from Serbia, Capture of the Karajakois, Capture of Yenikoi.
02.11.1916 Absorbed the 6th Battalion.
Sept 1917 Deployed to Egypt and Palestine as part of the Palestine Campaign.
30.04.1918 Deployed to France, embarking at Port Said leaving the 10th Division arriving at Marseilles.
23.07.1918 Transferred to the 66th Division.
24.08.1918 Transferred to the 48th Brigade of the 16th Division absorbing the 11th Battalion;
The Final Advance in Artois.
11.11.1918 Ended the war at Antoing south of Tournai, Belgium.

7th & 8th (Service) Battalion
Sept 1914 Formed at Armagh as part of the Second New Army (K2) and then moved to Tipperary to join the 49th Brigade of the 16th Division.
Sept 1915 Moved to Pirbright.
Feb 1916 Mobilised for war and landed in France and engaged in various actions on the Western Front including;
1916
The Battle of Guillemont, The Battle of Ginchy. 
15.10.1916 Amalgamated with the 8th Battalion to form the 7/8th Battalion.
1917
The Battle of Messines, The Battle of Langemark. 
1918
The Battle of St Quentin, The Battle of Rosieres.
10.02.1918 Disbanded in France.

9th (Service) Battalion (Co. Armagh)
Sept 1914 Formed from volunteers of the Armagh, Monaghan and Cavan regions and joined the 2nd Brigade of the Ulster Division.
02.11.1914 Formation became the 108th Brigade of the 36th (Ulster) Division.
Nov 1914 Moved to Belfast.
Feb 1915 Moved to Newtownards and then Seaford, Essex.
Oct 1915 Mobilised for war and landed at Boulogne and engaged in various actions on the Western Front including;
1915
Division initially concentrated around Flesselles, while groups of men attached to the 4th Division for trench familiarisation and training. 
1916
Took over a complete section of the front line between the River Ancre and the Mailly-Maillet to Serre road. 
The Battle of Albert (the Division suffered 5,104 casualties during this action).
1917
The Battle of Messines, The Battle of Langemarck, The Cambrai Operations, The capture of Bourlon Wood. 
25.09.1917 Absorbed the B & C squadrons (304 men) of the dismounted Irish Horse to become the 9th (North Irish Horse) Battalion
1918
The Battle of St Quentin, The Actions at the Somme Crossings, The Battle of Rosieres, The Battle of Messines, The Battle of Bailleul, The First Battle of Kemmel Ridge, The Battle of Ypres, The Battle of Courtrai, The action of Ooteghem. 
11.11.1918 Ended the war at Mouscron N.E. of Tourcoing, Belgium.

10th (Reserve) Battalion
Sept 1915 Formed at Lurgan, County Armagh from the depot companies of the 9th Battalion as a local reserve Battalion.
Jan 1916 Moved to Newtownards as part of the 15th (Ulster) Reserve Brigade.
Aug 1917 Move to Armagh.
April 1918 Moved to England at Rugeley.
Amy 1918 Absorbed by the 3rd Battalion.

11st (Service) Battalion
01.06.1918 Formed at Greatham, West Hartlepool.
18.06.1918 Absorbed the cadre of the 7th Battalion of the Royal Dublin Fusiliers.
28.06.1918 Moved to Aldershot and transferred to the 48th Brigade of the 16th Division.
July 1918 Mobilised for war and landed in France and engaged in various actions on the Western Front including;
The Final Advance in Artois.
29.08.1918 Absorbed into the 5th Battalion.

1st Garrison Battalion
Sept 1915 Formed at Dublin.
Feb 1916 Deployed to India.
May 1917 Deployed to Burma.

2nd Garrison Battalion
April 1916 Formed at Dublin and then moved to Templemore Co. Tipperary.
Aug 1916 Deployed to Salonika and engaged in various actions against the Bulgarian Army.
01.03.1917 Transferred to the 228th Brigade of the 28th Division and engaged in various actions against the Bulgarian Army including;
1917
The capture of Ferdie and Essex Trenches.
06.08.1917 Transferred to defend the Lines of Communication.
30.09.1918 Ended the war in Macedonia.

3rd (Reserve) Garrison Battalion
Dec 1916 Formed at Dublin.
April 1917 Moved to Bere Island, Bantry Bay.
May 1918 Moved to Seaton Carew, Hartlepool and then Greatham.
Oct 1918 Moved to Castle Eden, west Hartlepool.

Berlin 1964

My father was stationed in Heidelberg when he was in the US Army. Not yet a citizen, he served 4 years during the Vietnam conflict.  During his time in Germany, he visited West Berlin and stood looking over "no mans land" when he was there.

It is hard to imagine now how the partitioned city appeared to my father as a young, newly married man.

29 years ago, that ugly wall came down and East and West Berlin reunified and Germany became whole again. Could my father then have imagine such a change?

John Thomas Moore, Part Three

Going back to Analore on Sunday, the crowd was far larger. All the McMahon cousins save John were there, and Peter and his wife Sheila told me I was welcome to stay at their home Wednesday night so I was well set to make my Thursday morning flight.

There was a parade of all the boys I knew from all my prior visits- so many people- From Kevin, who's wedding I went to years earlier, to Colin, Declan... I told Kevin how dreamy his brother Kenny was way back when, and he laughed. "Sure I am not tellin him that..."

I sat with Sean for periods, and left to make room, washing dishes- so many cups and plates. Colleen had been banned from washing after breaking two cups in rapid order. The Moore girls (women really), Eamonn's daughters, worked non-stop serving. Everyone seemed to be moving all the time.

I wondered what would happen when all the moving stopped.

We went back to Rita's and I had my part of the reading for the Mass the next day. A child of each of Sean's siblings would read. I went over the words again and again. I had to get through it without sobbing.

The next morning w sat and prayed in that beautiful front room and I was numb in my grief. The Rosary was said, one decade per sibling, until Catherine took over for Rita. How many times in the prior days had she asked, "How will we get along without Sean."

Then we stood behind the coffin till it was carried to the bottom of his field on the shoulders of all the men who loved him, his brothers, his nephews and his friends.

When we arrived at the church it was overflowing with people. We made our way in and the service began. The woman who sang had the voice of an angel, and speaking from the altar each of us in turn, was so much harder than I thought it would be.

When each of us finished we stood to the side and as I stepped over, my tears flowed unchecked. I can't believe he is gone.

We went to his grave, where he will be next to Alison, and then we went to Newbliss and were served a lunch. Afterwards we went across to the pub and then back into Clones to Adamsons for a late night. As good as it was to see everyone, I wish it had been for any other reason.

Tuesday was a mass exodus as everyone started to head back to their lives. I would go up to Dublin on the bus and wait for Peter at the terminal- Had it really only been a week since I had left America?

I wonderful night with Peter and his family and a very early lift to the airport (6am- Peter is a good man, and very like his father Jim.) The flight home was endless, the layover in Boston far too long, as I was anxious to be home.

Even now I wish it was all a bad dream, and even now, I am not sleeping well.

I love and miss you, Sean. You were the best of men.

John Thomas Moore, Part Two

Mass was first on the agenda Saturday morning. I went with Teresa and Rita while the rest of the house was still sleeping to early Mass at the church that was out the road going left by the Abby if you head to town from Rita's- if you made a right you would be heading to Annakilly behind the old graveyard. Which is a very Irish way to explain getting to a place.

I had not been to this church before- it was down a narrow road that opened up to find some lovely little homes across from an impressive Catholic Church.

The priest announced prayers for Sean who had died, and my tears came. After mass several people came to my aunts to offer condolences. It was hard.

Later, Gillian, Mark, Paul and I headed into town to pick up a few things, and Gillian texted the Moore girls to see what was needed, as they were our next stop. Toilet paper, salt, and a few bits an pieces and we were on our way.

It was hard walking into Analore, no words for the grief- we were all overwhelmed. And then Frances expressed surprise about the salt, that she had meant to pick it up and how had we known she needed salt.

It was a light moment in the darkness.

Her sister and John Kelly were with me and Frances as John explained the plan for the traffic during the viewing. Everyone would park in the field, saving the circular drive for whoever wasn't able to walk. Frances was worried there wouldn't be enough time for the wake and both John and her sister assured her, if he was brought home tonight, waked through Monday morning, then it was fine to have the funeral Monday. It was here Frances cried.

My heart broke just a little more, feeling her pain and loss.

Back to Rita's, the Cunningham cousins were packed and moved over to Anne-Marie's and Fitz and Gay went to Chris and Jim to make room for JP and Karen, Bernard and Peter, who were coming over from England. Bernard, with his girls were coming by ferry, and the others were flying in late that night.

Tea, food, and work to change beds and do dishes... we kept busy until it was time to go.

We all met the hearse just over the border and followed Sean home. A long line of cars, with more people back at the house. He was delivered into the front parlor, and the long ling snaked its way in. Seeing him was a shock, a grief that sucked the air from my lungs. Sobs overwhelmed me as I moved outside blindly.

It took some time to get my bearing and then I helped bring around trays of food- anything to keep busy. And then I took a turn sitting with Sean. Every happy memory of him flooded back and over and over I though, 'What  a heartbreaking loss."

Streams of people came and went. I was amazed at how many tea cups there were- hundreds it seemed. I wondered where they all came from. And endless food, brought by all who loved Sean and Frances.

Bobby Brogan wept and I handed him my hankie- I told him how Sean teased my daughter on her visit not so long before about the house being haunted and then having a ghost set up in her room when she got home from town. How I was sure Bobby would have heard her screaming. Laughing and crying at the same time.

I didn't stay up that night- the younger cousins set the schedule. I was home to Rita by midnight and waited up for Karen, Peter, and  JP to arrive. It was amazing to see them but for the circumstances.

John Thomas Moore, Part One

My uncle, Sean Moore, died from suicide on June 29th, 2018, only a little more that a year after his daughter Ally died.

My first instinct on hearing the news of what happened was to go to him- he was still alive when found and he was airlifted to the closest trauma center, The South West Acute Hospital in Enniskillen,  a town in County Fermanagh, Northern Ireland. There was no real expectation he would survive his injuries. I left my work in the hands of my colleagues and headed home.

I packed, got a ticket from Delta- the man I spoke to was exceedingly kind and got me on a flight at 6pm that same evening. Passport in hand, I boarded the plane. My daughter was worried that I had not made a plan to stay with someone, I was taking the bus from Dublin, and that I wouldn't have a phone to reach anyone. I had no such worries. I just needed to go. This was Sean, after all. My uncle who had always been so incredibly generous to me, to everyone, who loved us all so fiercely.

Sean was my mother's youngest brother. Her favorite. My aunt, of course, told me, "Sure, he was everyone's favorite."

I landed in Paris and had to get myself to a connecting flight in another terminal (My French from high school completely abandoned me) and after being misdirected twice and going through security again I cut it very close to catch my flight. And the heat even in the terminal was just brutal.

I arrived in Dublin, exhausted from lack of sleep and found myself waiting in the long line for non-EU members. I was desperate for a bathroom and there are none before you go thru immigration- Bah Humbug. When the man asked if I was in Ireland for a holiday or business, my eyes welled up and I whispered that my uncle was in the hospital and doing poorly. The young man was kind and passed me thru with directions to the nearest restroom. Next I searched for a bus to the Dublin Bus terminal, which I had a much less difficult time with on my last visit in 2014.

Dublin was quite changed- something I knew was happening but was amazing to see.

At the bus terminal, I found only one option to get me to Clones via a 1pm Cavan bus and a 4:40pm connection to Clones, which had me arriving in Clones after five. I couldn't sleep on the bus because it was meat locker cold, but the scenery was just beautiful as we wove thru all the small towns on the route.

At the Cavan terminal, I had tea that was disappointing prior to boarding the last bus of my journey. By the time I was dropped at the bottom of Fermanagh Street, I had been traveling over 24 hours. I lugged my much too large suitcase up the town to Packies and got a beer and tried to figure out how to get out to Rita's when Finton Morgan walked in. Sean had died at around 3pm that afternoon, Finton told me. After buying me a pint, he took me to drop off my case at Rita's (She was not back from the hospital) and then out to Annakilly to see Mac and Monica.

After Finton left, I had Mac drop me at Rita's but he didn't come in. Rita had all the Cunninghams and Teresa Marron. Bernard and the rest of the Marrons were due to arrive the next day, as were JP, Karen and Peter Sheerin. The Americans- Ann, Etta, Sean, Kathleen and Colleen were arriving Sunday, and John McMahon would fly in Monday for the funeral.

The funeral had to be Monday, as Eamonn, the eldest of my mother's brothers, was scheduled for Chemo Tuesday to treat his colon cancer.

We ate, we talked, and we missed him. Sean Moore was only 66 years old.

Month's Mind mass

A month's mind is a requiem mass celebrated about one month after a person's death, in memory of the deceased. In medieval and later England, it was a service and feast held one month after the death in memory of the deceased.

You say goodbye again, and hopefully you are over the drowning feel of grief. Though if I am honest, I am not there yet.

You remember the good, you remember the funny, and you pray for the peace that is yet to come.

My beloved uncle- I love you, I miss you, and I am a better person for having known you.