Keep her while she’s living
Jun. 16th, 2007 09:03 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jawnbcThere were almost 200 people in attendance this afternoon to celebrate the 100th birthday of my Nana, Anna Kathleen (née Anna Katerina) Gibbons Egan. All 5 of her surviving children (3 deceased), 16 of 17 surviving grandchildren (1 deceased), 30 of 33 great-grandchildren (though everyone was asking after youse, ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
riderofkarma andstoplabelingme), and her infant great-great grandchild were in attendance, So too were several of her nieces and nephews from Portumna Galway. And dozens of close family friends, all of to whom she was Nanny.
There was music. There was food. There was an open bar. And the craic, Jaysus there was the craic! People bounced from one hug-and-kiss hello to the next. The doors swung open with someone newly arrived from Florida, Ireland, even Canada. My aunt Una came from Ireland, despite being on dialysis—only Una’s daughter Cathy couldn’t make it over from Clare. I saw a number of people for the first time since 1985 (my brother’s wedding). Though only 4 hours long, the interactions were furious and intense. And by the end of it I was ready for a pause.
20 years ago the queue for the bar would’ve been miles with the buffet gone cold (save potatoes, to reduce the chances of puking later); today everyone lunged for the food while quaffing a few cold ones (or, frequently, pop). It was a mob sure as, but think of the Egans as a fractal clan: there is order in the chaos and the system knows itself to operate well, if at times perplexingly. If perhaps one thing surprised me was how little dancing we did. Or others did. Kids and mums, for the most part.
Nanny was brought out to the middle of the dance floor and perched on a chair. Then various permutations of the clan were called up: All Egans, spouses, kids, grandkids, great-grandkids and great-great grandkid! The Kennedys! The Lonergans! Pat and Paddy’s (us)! Geri, Desi and Michelle! The Gibbons! The cousins! Cameras fired off, smiles were pressed into service, young ones stared into their shoes or leapt into the fore. I had one hand on Ma, the other on Nanny.querrelle had a hand on me. Then we were with Tommy and Kathleen. Everyone was smiling and laughing. Everyone was having a tremendous time.
There are times when, if you are blessed, you realize that you are a part of something. A vibrant, extended family is built through history and narrative. Much of who we are is about times shared—and times recounted. Our family has rendered even the more introverted among us great storytellers. “D’ya remember when Brenda sang ‘Happy Trails’ in the funeral parlour?” “How about the time when Eileen punched that guy out, still in her wedding dress? And then started ripping open the envelopes in order to buy more drinks?” D’ya? D’ya?
Nanny held court at the front of the room as everyone took their turn giving her a hug and a kiss. Ma was across from her, beaming the entire time: but then, how many women count their mother-in-law as their best friend? Those who are in the thick of raising young ones sat around and chatted while feeding, burping and loving the newest Egans. Those with teenagers commiserated about the madness of adolescence…and whispering about how, compared to us, today’s Egan young adult is fairly sane. Fairly. Looking over at Ma and the aunts I saw a uniform smile of contentment: these were women who sought integrate rigid Irish Catholic notions of womanhood with a desire to be a full person—and to raise their kids to be great people. And Nanny always says “all I wanted was them to be good people. And they’re all great people, aren’t they?”
They are. We are. And the sense of pride and love on these women’s faces as they saw their children and their families bringing that forward another generation? Priceless.
My god daughter is now a young woman, yet I can remember the shock (and, to be candid, fear) of looking into that bassinette and seeing my brother’s face on a girl (she’s gorgeous now). Her sisters are catching up as well. And my sister Kath’s kids continue to impress everyone with their good manners and great spirits. And height: their father gave our leprechaun gene pool a much-needed boost!
querrelle bore up incredibly well: he picked a very auspicious occasion for his first full-on Egan experience. Clever man that he is, by the end of it he was putting names and faces together (“So…Susie is Maureen’s sister….and Berna’s her mother?” Yes!) And he was wholly and universally accepted as family. I cannot begin to tell you how happy that made me.
There is always the party after the party in our family. We gave a lift to a loquacious ill-behaved cousin from Meath to the house, then went on to join my cousins at The Wharf. It’s a nothing special hole-in-the-wall joint on Jamaica Bay. But the sun broke through the humid haze and we basked in a warm sun and cool breeze. But by then the day was catching up with us.
We headed to the house and had a good long visit with Ma. Da came in after a while and the 4 of us – me, querrelle, Ma and Da – sat in their bedroom chatting about the day, their new home (to which they will not permanently move until Nanny dies), and our life in Vancouver. I never expected any such conversation to take place, not least of all with Da. It was easy, good humoured and natural. We then adjourned downstairs for a visit with the aunts and Nanny. Where I heard another family story for the first time, which moved me to tears.
My grandfather died in February 1994 or 95, aged 89 and in his own home. The day he died Brenda – their youngest child, who had Down’s Syndrome and was perhaps 50 at the time – was getting ready to go to school. Pop had been unwell on and off for several months; recently this most robust of men had taken to lying on the sofa dozing. As he was that morning when Nanny got Brenda out the front door and onto the school bus.
“Is she gone Kathleen?”
“She is. I’ll bring you your breakfast.”
By the time she came out with his toast and tea he was gone. He waited so Brenda wouldn’t be the one to find him.
Later that afternoon Brenda came home from school. Her 7 brothers and sisters were all there when Nanny sat her down and said “I have something terrible to tell you Brenda. Daddy died today. He’s gone to heaven.” “Oh no” she sobbed “who will take care of us now?”
“We all will” was their reply.
And they did.
And they do.
We do.
riderofkarma andstoplabelingme), and her infant great-great grandchild were in attendance, So too were several of her nieces and nephews from Portumna Galway. And dozens of close family friends, all of to whom she was Nanny.There was music. There was food. There was an open bar. And the craic, Jaysus there was the craic! People bounced from one hug-and-kiss hello to the next. The doors swung open with someone newly arrived from Florida, Ireland, even Canada. My aunt Una came from Ireland, despite being on dialysis—only Una’s daughter Cathy couldn’t make it over from Clare. I saw a number of people for the first time since 1985 (my brother’s wedding). Though only 4 hours long, the interactions were furious and intense. And by the end of it I was ready for a pause.
20 years ago the queue for the bar would’ve been miles with the buffet gone cold (save potatoes, to reduce the chances of puking later); today everyone lunged for the food while quaffing a few cold ones (or, frequently, pop). It was a mob sure as, but think of the Egans as a fractal clan: there is order in the chaos and the system knows itself to operate well, if at times perplexingly. If perhaps one thing surprised me was how little dancing we did. Or others did. Kids and mums, for the most part.
Nanny was brought out to the middle of the dance floor and perched on a chair. Then various permutations of the clan were called up: All Egans, spouses, kids, grandkids, great-grandkids and great-great grandkid! The Kennedys! The Lonergans! Pat and Paddy’s (us)! Geri, Desi and Michelle! The Gibbons! The cousins! Cameras fired off, smiles were pressed into service, young ones stared into their shoes or leapt into the fore. I had one hand on Ma, the other on Nanny.
querrelle had a hand on me. Then we were with Tommy and Kathleen. Everyone was smiling and laughing. Everyone was having a tremendous time.There are times when, if you are blessed, you realize that you are a part of something. A vibrant, extended family is built through history and narrative. Much of who we are is about times shared—and times recounted. Our family has rendered even the more introverted among us great storytellers. “D’ya remember when Brenda sang ‘Happy Trails’ in the funeral parlour?” “How about the time when Eileen punched that guy out, still in her wedding dress? And then started ripping open the envelopes in order to buy more drinks?” D’ya? D’ya?
Nanny held court at the front of the room as everyone took their turn giving her a hug and a kiss. Ma was across from her, beaming the entire time: but then, how many women count their mother-in-law as their best friend? Those who are in the thick of raising young ones sat around and chatted while feeding, burping and loving the newest Egans. Those with teenagers commiserated about the madness of adolescence…and whispering about how, compared to us, today’s Egan young adult is fairly sane. Fairly. Looking over at Ma and the aunts I saw a uniform smile of contentment: these were women who sought integrate rigid Irish Catholic notions of womanhood with a desire to be a full person—and to raise their kids to be great people. And Nanny always says “all I wanted was them to be good people. And they’re all great people, aren’t they?”
They are. We are. And the sense of pride and love on these women’s faces as they saw their children and their families bringing that forward another generation? Priceless.
My god daughter is now a young woman, yet I can remember the shock (and, to be candid, fear) of looking into that bassinette and seeing my brother’s face on a girl (she’s gorgeous now). Her sisters are catching up as well. And my sister Kath’s kids continue to impress everyone with their good manners and great spirits. And height: their father gave our leprechaun gene pool a much-needed boost!
querrelle bore up incredibly well: he picked a very auspicious occasion for his first full-on Egan experience. Clever man that he is, by the end of it he was putting names and faces together (“So…Susie is Maureen’s sister….and Berna’s her mother?” Yes!) And he was wholly and universally accepted as family. I cannot begin to tell you how happy that made me.There is always the party after the party in our family. We gave a lift to a loquacious ill-behaved cousin from Meath to the house, then went on to join my cousins at The Wharf. It’s a nothing special hole-in-the-wall joint on Jamaica Bay. But the sun broke through the humid haze and we basked in a warm sun and cool breeze. But by then the day was catching up with us.
We headed to the house and had a good long visit with Ma. Da came in after a while and the 4 of us – me, querrelle, Ma and Da – sat in their bedroom chatting about the day, their new home (to which they will not permanently move until Nanny dies), and our life in Vancouver. I never expected any such conversation to take place, not least of all with Da. It was easy, good humoured and natural. We then adjourned downstairs for a visit with the aunts and Nanny. Where I heard another family story for the first time, which moved me to tears.
My grandfather died in February 1994 or 95, aged 89 and in his own home. The day he died Brenda – their youngest child, who had Down’s Syndrome and was perhaps 50 at the time – was getting ready to go to school. Pop had been unwell on and off for several months; recently this most robust of men had taken to lying on the sofa dozing. As he was that morning when Nanny got Brenda out the front door and onto the school bus.
“Is she gone Kathleen?”
“She is. I’ll bring you your breakfast.”
By the time she came out with his toast and tea he was gone. He waited so Brenda wouldn’t be the one to find him.
Later that afternoon Brenda came home from school. Her 7 brothers and sisters were all there when Nanny sat her down and said “I have something terrible to tell you Brenda. Daddy died today. He’s gone to heaven.” “Oh no” she sobbed “who will take care of us now?”
“We all will” was their reply.
And they did.
And they do.
We do.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2007-06-17 05:03 am (UTC)How lucky you are to be part of a gorgeous, imperfect, human family.
no subject
Date: 2007-06-17 05:33 am (UTC)Anyhoo, great stories... God love the Irish!
no subject
Date: 2007-06-17 08:00 am (UTC)As you know I lost my poppy a couple of months ago aged 106 and 9 months. I miss him so much.
Please to see the boy is home with you. I could tell from your posts that you missed him.
Glad that everyone loved querrelle as much as you do.
Hugz
Downunder
no subject
Date: 2007-06-17 08:43 am (UTC)xo
no subject
Date: 2007-06-17 11:02 am (UTC)Wonderful. I didn't realize Max had gone with you. How perfect.
So when is the trip to Ireland? You know. Flights to Zurich shouldn't be to expensive ... and we can make the city as cheap as you want it to be.
no subject
Date: 2007-06-17 01:34 pm (UTC)How Wonderful!
Date: 2007-06-17 02:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-06-18 02:07 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-06-18 02:25 am (UTC)I was there to enjoy this great day
Re: I was there to enjoy this great day
Date: 2007-06-21 06:31 pm (UTC)Re: I was there to enjoy this great day
Date: 2007-06-25 09:12 pm (UTC)How're ya doin?
I forgot to tell you something: most of the family doesn't know about my LJ and I want to keep it that way.
So don't forward links or anything to anyone, OK? Only the Egans on here (you, Jenn, Jackie, Katie) get to read it.
Thanks!
Re: I was there to enjoy this great day
Date: 2007-06-25 11:01 pm (UTC)Re: I was there to enjoy this great day
Date: 2007-06-26 12:08 am (UTC)Thanks