Prayers of the Faithful

On this day, in 2018, my uncle died. Several days later we gathered to say goodbye and representatives of his tribe: nieces or nephews, one from each of his siblings families, took turns, praying the following:

The Priest: Christ is the Good Shepherd who gives His life to save those He loves. In our loss, let us turn to Him and with confidence make our needs known to Him.

Colleen: We pray for the gift of Eternal Life: That Sean will be received into the Lord's loving embrace.    Lord, hear us.

Me: We pray for Sean, that Christ may have mercy in his soul and grant him the fullness of risen life where all burdens will be lifted and peace enjoyed.    Lord, hear us.

Peter (His Godson): As we gather in sadness at the death of Sean, we carry with us many good memories of his years of love and care as husband, father, brother, uncle, brother in law, neighbour and friend, his open and welcoming personality, his work and love if the land, animals and farming, his ease with and love of all people and especially children, his ever presence and willingness to help in every moment of need, a man who was a good neighbour. We remember the burdens of sadness and grief that he carried as we pray that death may be for him but a step into the friendship and presence of God.    Lord hear us.

Laura: We pray for Sean's family, that in these difficult and dark days they may be sustained by their faith, and by the knowledge that they will be reunited with Sean one day in God's heavenly kingdom.  Lord hear us.

Lisa: The gift of life, which we all share, is very precious. Lord, make us more aware of the gifts and talents you have given us, particularly those that we so often take for granted. May we use them to make the world a better place.   Lord, hear us.

Paul: We pray for all who are sick, lonely or who find their journey in life difficult or who travel the lonely road of bereavement. May they experience the closeness of Christ who will give them and their loved ones strength, comfort and healing.    Lord, hear us.

Caroline: We pray that all who have departed from this life believing in God, especially Alison, may find light, happiness and peace in his kingdom. Lord, hear us.

Catherine: For all of us gathered here: that we may remember at all times, but especially at times of trouble and anxiety, that we are loved by God and that he will take care of us.   Lord, hear us.

I still miss my sweet uncle so much.

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.