Memories of my mother

It was a strange feeling. I was on my way to St. Luke’s Hospital yet the whole world around me was full of life and so completely oblivious to my pain and fear.

It was the bank holiday Monday in October 2009. Because of the Dublin City marathon, many of the city’s roads were closed to traffic. Thank goodness it was beautiful day, cold and crisp, but gloriously sunny.

I parked the car on the Terenure side of Rathgar village and walked the short journey to St. Luke’s Hospital. There were crowds of people everywhere enjoying the exceptional weather on this bank holiday weekend.

There was a festival atmosphere as crowds of men, women and children gathered to watch and cheer as the participants ran or walked through the village on their way to the finish line.

Just last week we had collected Mam from the hospital for the afternoon. It had been her 80th birthday and the whole family including children, grandchildren and her one and only great-grandchild, gathered in her home to celebrate her wonderful life.

We knew she was undergoing radiotherapy and we hoped it would work but, on that day, I personally tried not to think of the future and what lay ahead.

When my brother and I went to collect her that day, the nurses were laughing and joking with Mam and she was enjoying all the attention on her special day. At that time, she was fully lucid, though the tumour and the therapy were taking their toll on her body. We had to bring her home in a wheelchair.

But Mam had great faith and she trusted in God to take care of her, no matter what.

So now here I was again on another visit. Thankfully, her birthday hadn’t been on the day of the marathon or we’d never had been able to drive close enough to the hospital to collect her and would have had to battle our way through the crowd.

As I turned to walk up the broad avenue, the enormous trees on either side were covered in the most beautiful shades of red and yellow and gold. The dappled sunshine shone on a fantastic golden carpet of crisp autumn leaves.

My heart was thumping in my chest with a strange mixture of emotions, a wonderful appreciation of the natural world around me, and the dread of what lay ahead of us in the coming weeks and months.

I can still see that avenue in its glorious kaleidoscope of colour every time I close my eyes and even sometimes when I don’t. To this day it evokes a strange mix of emotions, some happy some sad.

Thanks for reading.

Mary