Mothers and Memories

Monica Martin

Fancy Nancy

Mother

I hear people say

How is your mother?

But I will never be able to say that again.

No one will ever say to me, ‘how is your mother’. It is sad, sometimes hearing these conversations when mine is gone over 10 years (2013) or more.

But what a beautiful soul she was, regularly doing stuff for others. Her second home was in the Oblate school, where she spent possibly the best years of her life.

She became part of the furniture there. Mam always turned into work to make the sandwiches for the children. A few years down the road, the government decided to bring in free sandwiches and milk. They brought them into the school to be given out into the classroom.

In the last 5-10 years, after she retired from the school, the teachers invited her back every day. Nancy would turn up and sit as all the teachers filed in for their morning tea. She used to make the tea for them.

Then in the later years, they would make her a cuppa tae.

Even when Mam couldn’t walk down any more, the teachers would call for her on the way into school and bring her in; she would be there for morning cuppa. And after they would bring her home.

On her deathbed, the school made us feel so proud to have Nancy as our mother. They talked about her like she was a saint.

She would often purchase baked cakes from the bakery for their 11 o’clock break. If Mam baked a few apple tarts or mince tarts, she would bring them into school.

Four weeks ago at set dancing, a woman came to me and said that Padraig, her son-in-law, was in the Oblates and brought home a piece of paper remembering Nancy Foley.

Confirmation

I remember this day like it was yesterday. Mam and I went to St James’s Church for the Confirmation. Everyone else was left at home.

I wore a red velvet dress with lace trimming around the neckline and I wore a green check woolen coat with a crochet cream beret. All those items, my Aunt Maureen sewed and crocheted for me.

I remember going to the Oblate church to pick out what saint’s name for my Confirmation. It was Saint Brigid, I picked. I bought a book in the church about Saint Brigid to bring home and read all about her.

I remember being scared walking up that aisle in the church to the bishop to recite the prayer in front of him.

I was so scared he would ask me a question. I didn’t have a sponsor to hold my shoulder and say it’s okay. But with confidence, I managed to get through the day.

Then the next day, I was privileged to be taken around on the bus to visit my aunts and uncles and meet all my cousins.

I was the queen that day. All the rest of my siblings were at home, while I was entertained by my aunts and uncles.

Having Mam all to myself, it was so… good.

Monica Martin is a member of Inklings Writing Group. Next meeting Tuesday 11am in Annebrook House Hotel. Mullingar. Aspiring and fun writers welcome. They have loads of fun!