The Goodbye

We finally laid dad to rest two years after his death, in the sea off Kilgorman beach. It was a sad but magical day. The sun was shining, the sky was blue, the wind and waves were gentle.

As we walked over the dune carrying his ashes and red roses, I saw the sun glinting on the sea almost directly opposite “the gap”. The tears immediately began to fall.

That was the first of many signs.

I had scribbled a few extra lines onto a well-known poem the day before his anniversary after a walk on Duncannon beach. We had read the original at his funeral and when I saw the sun shining across the sea and on the shells I thought of him, as I always do.

Do not stand at my grave and weep

I am the sun glinting on shells

I’m the sun’s reflection on tide

I am the wind that blows your side

I’m in the darkening clouds that cry

I am there where you are, I did not die

The second sign – the roses we threw in after his ashes, were washed back onto the beach, in a line, along the shore where he always went for a run after a swim.

The third – a seal appeared and swam where we had scattered the ashes. In all the years we have never seen a seal in that close and generally they are only at either end of the beach at the rocks.

I’m not religious and after he died I tried to feel he was still here (as people say) but there was nothing. He was gone and it was final. I found that the hardest aspect but gradually began to accept that once we die, that’s it. There is nothing else. Of course that doesn’t stop you thinking of the person, remembering them, missing them.

But yesterday that changed. I really felt he was watching us, that he approved and he was happy. He was somewhere behind the scenes orchestrating the whole thing and sending that seal to make us realise.

I tried to take a photo of the seal but his head vanished out of sight only to reappear a few seconds later when I wasn’t ready. Then we saw 3 roses bobbing in his place.

The clouds darkened as we walked off the beach and began to cry. But it was shortlived.

Later that evening, driving home the cloud formation and light over the county Wexford countryside from the new M11 motorway was breathtaking.

And even later the sunset spectacular.

I’m glad we waited as long as we did to lay him to rest. It felt right, it felt final, it was a good goodbye.

Rest in peace dad, dadad, Gerry dad.

The First Day(s)

To me the first day was the day with all my animals around me and to me my animals are family (even the ones for eating). You can’t say, “ah the poor cratur has no one else”,  because I have felt like this all my life. I consider animals as part of my family and always have done. I grew up with animals and I cannot envisage a life without them.

Waking up and going out to feed the pigs and let the hens and ducks out on a lovely sunny autumn day in my new place was magical.

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Honky sunning herself

 

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Lady L loving all the grass and dry ground

Watching them stroll off to explore their new place with tails up is my abiding memory of that day. The ground was firm and dry. They had left a quagmire in Meath. The soil here is so much dryer and sandier.

I kept the poultry in the old shed for a day or two. It had been used as a pigsty in the past. There was the sleeping area and the feed trough that was fed from the outside (now blocked up with a sheet of corrugated iron) and presumably the “toilet” area. It is hard to imagine two fully grown sows in here but there was. Even back then pigs were treated abominably. I wouldn’t even put Parker the KuneKune in here to sleep and he’s a small pig.

Initially I had some fun with wandering hens but the funniest had to be the young duck who decided to fly into the neighbours late one evening around Halloween. I went looking for her and the kids all piled out to help in full Halloween costume. Picture me, the parents and three kids dressed up as ghosts and ghouls chasing a poor duck. The kids got a lesson that evening on how to catch an animal. We herded her into their porch and as she flew up I grabbed her. Various hens got out into the lane way between me and these neighbours but were relatively easy to shoo back. It doesn’t take long for them to realise where home is.

It took the cats a full month to explore outside. The fat cat hid in a hole in the lining in the bottom of one of the couches when anyone called in. He shot out the door one night after about three weeks as I was calling the dogs in. I was sure I’d never see him again and was distraught. But next morning he appeared and shot back in when I went out to feed the pigs. He didn’t go out again for about three weeks. Now I can’t get him in.  On the plus side when I first moved here I couldn’t keep up replacing poison. The place was overrun with mice. Once the cats went out, no more poison taken.

The dogs loved it from the beginning particularly the beach. I’m only five minutes from Duncannon and in the winter it’s MY beach, Now it’s full of day trippers and I hate it.

 

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I will never forget the first time I realised I was so close to the beach. The estate agent had muttered something about beaches when he first showed me the house. But it wasn’t until the second viewing when we drove down to Roche’s in Duncannon for lunch. When you come around the bend at the top of the hill,  the whole bay is there in front of you glistening seductively. It’s breathtakingly beautiful. The sea, the estuary, the Waterford coast, Duncannon Fort and the old lighthouse, now a private house. That view is good for the soul.

Every time I walked on the beach I felt the urge to pinch myself to wake up from a lovely dream. I also kept thinking about dad. Was he up there somewhere watching me and quietly pleased he had engineered the whole thing? I like to think he was. I don’t think I’ve ever been on the beach since where he hasn’t come into my head in some shape or form.

It was promising to be a lovely autumn and although there had been mutterings and forecasts about a dire winter I put them out of my head. There had been so many before and they’d always been wrong………