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.
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