Wednesday, 3 April 2024

Beatrice a hundred year old mystery

My grandmother died aged 25 when my father was only 14 months old. One of the few photos we have is her sitting with him, a baby on her lap. She looks so lovely, but it feels strangely heartbreaking knowing that in a matter of months, she would be dead. What caused her death or even any details of her death seems still shrouded in mystery. It was 1925 and attitudes to death were different in those times. The general approach then could be summarised as ‘least said soonest mended’!

A friend, even in the 1960s, said her mother had died when she was just 13 and her sister 11. They were sent to school the day of their mother’s funeral and no one ever mentioned her mother again. Such a reaction was fairly common in those earlier years of the 1920s, and to be fair, there were so many deaths from diseases and other causes that perhaps not talking about such losses was a practical way of coping. What is there to say about the death toll of World War I when 40 million died between the years 1914 and 1918? My grandfather fought in that war. The Spanish flu which followed from 1918 to 1919, killed another 50 million. In the face of such a scale of loss, possibly people opted to just accept death as an ever-present feature of their lives. 

My grandfather was born in 1898 and entered the army aged only 16. It is hard to imagine him going through World War I as a teenager and facing the brutal horror of those days including the battle of the Somme. During that time he was shot in the upper arm and once recovered was sent right back into battle. By the time World War I was over he was in his early 20s. He returned to Northern Ireland fell in love with Beatrice Magee and married in 1923, aged 25. They had a baby boy but after just two years, his young wife suddenly died.

Because her death was seldom discussed my father knew little of his mother’s death. He was fortunate that his mother was one of many siblings and during his childhood, he had many loving aunts lavish attention on him. But that void where a mother should have been was ever-present. He had questions that were never answered. One gossipy villager whispered that she had been sent to an asylum and died there. In the absence of real knowledge, toxic gossip often takes its place. Also in today's world, not knowing your family’s health details leaves you uninformed about important things like any inherited diseases there may be. When a relative examined one side of our family tree, he was horrified at the number of male relatives who had died quite young from heart disease.

Last week, my brother found an old tray in the attic of our garage and brought it down for us to see.  It had been there for decades but we read its inscription as we examined it.  Given to Beatrice Magee on the occasion of her marriage in 1923.  My brother took it home and cleaned, polished and fixed the tray and my Mum placed it in the living room behind the photograph of Beatrice holding her baby.  It triggered renewed memories of this lady that none of us had ever met.  Several family members had failed to find Beatrice’s death certificate while carrying out their research and there seemed to be a mystery in its absence.  

This week I applied online and bought a copy of her death certificate using a different birth date than the one commonly used.  This morning the death certificate arrived and I felt that at last the mystery of almost a century would be solved.  However, the death certificate was written in such poor handwriting I could not make out the cause of death!  In frustration, I sent it to relatives, medical and otherwise hoping they could help decipher the words.  It took a day but the answer eventually came, she suffered from “mitral regurgitation 2 years cardiac failure certified”.  So there in back and white at last was the answer.  

In examining the names on her grave there are signs of the scale of loss of life in those days.  Of her 10 siblings a five-year-old Violet died of scarlet fever in 1914 (the scarlet fever epidemic would peak in 1914).  The Spanish flu in 1919 took two of her brothers 24-year-old William and 19-year-old Charles.  They had to carry out the coffin of one brother through the family front door in November and then the second brother in December.  The scale of such loss was repeated through homes throughout this country.  It hurts the heart to think of it all.  There are no words.  How that generation weathered so much in such a short time should remind us all of the preciousness of life that we too often take for granted.  War and disease rip families apart. Each loss leaves a void that lingers in the hearts of all those who loved them.  

PS The Spanish Flu originated in the US on March 11, 1918, at Fort Riley a military camp in Kansas.  When those soldiers went to fight in World War 1 they took the disease to Europe and the rest of the world. It feels odd that the war my grandfather fought resulted in a disease that killed his wife's two brothers. However, pestilence and warfare were often fellow bedfellows over the millennium and no doubt recent wars will continue to contribute to the re-emergence of infectious diseases.  Already diseases such as cholera, polio, measles, tuberculosis and malaria are rising in the conflict areas of Iraq, South Sudan, Syria, Afghanistan and Yemen. The sad truth is that adequate prevention and treatment of communicable diseases are often impossible in times of conflict. In fact, war itself provides perfect vectors for disease such as refuge camps, mass movements of populations, poor sanitation, and a lack of access to either proper medical assistance, water or a healthy diet.

Saturday, 23 March 2024

Courtesy is such an old-fashioned word but a wonderful art indeed

 


She had a warm smile of greeting and she spoke kindly showing careful loving attention towards all guests. Her open heart welcomed you to her simple tidy home with generosity. Talking with her reminded me of conversations long ago, in black-and-white movies, where it seemed each word and gesture was carefully weighed and considered.  But it is the feeling her courtesy generated that I remember most.  She was doing not just everything to avoid offending you but also providing a safe space for you to be. Where you knew no harm but only help and love would come your way. Her determination to be courteous provided a safety net for every hurt soul that came her way.

"Do not be content with showing friendship in words alone, let your heart burn with loving-kindness for all who may cross your path."

Bahá'í Writing


Sunday, 3 March 2024

Doer of good


Dear Friend (you know who you are!), 


Doer of good remorselessly. 

Placing wreaths on old graves. 

Remembering lost ones over decades. 

Tidying and cleaning their resting places in honour of the love that lives still. 

Visiting lonely living elderly relatives and nurturing them with that life-affirming connection. 

I care, you matter, these regular long trips, crisscrossing the country affirm. 

Keeping friends, tight, through stress, divorce, separation, and loss of loved ones. 

Making sure the safety net of your love and concern is strengthened with additional knots of love. 

Never failing in loyalty, even when brought to the knees by the suicide of dear ones. 

The devastation of losing dear ones by their own hand strikes that huge heart to its core. 

But keeping that love alive despite the loss, the pain and absence.  

Remembering and holding their spirit in gentle arms of understanding and compassion.  

Dropping everything and giving anything to help a friend in real need. 

Providing constant help of finance, time, and love. 

Not buckling in the face of death but tightening the armour of love and heading anywhere for those you hold dear. 

"The betterment of the world can be accomplished through pure and goodly deeds and through commendable and seemly conduct. "

Baha'i Writings

Wednesday, 21 February 2024

Mystery of the Missing Earbuds

I lost my expensive Wi-Fi earbuds. I looked everywhere, under things behind sofas, and then in the most unlikely places, drawers and coat pockets, cupboards and shelves. No sign of them, and after two days of no success, my thoughts took a darker turn. Which of our visitors had pocketed my earbuds? They were a top-of-the-range model, an expensive gift for my birthday. You only had to look at them to know the quality. Even the case they were stored in seemed expensive. 

Perhaps it was the man who called in to read the electricity meter this week?  I had held the corridor cupboard door open while he read the meter inside. Had his sticky fingers closed over my precious headset as I fumbled with the door? Another suspect was John the man who comes once a year to spray clean the guttering and windows of the house. He had called and asked if he should do it this week. I went to ask my mother as he waited on the doorstep with the front door open. Had he reached in while I was along the corridor and pocketed the earbuds? His huge hands could have easily swallowed the small slick case in seconds. 

And so it went on. By the fourth day, I even searched the garage, the toilet and the car. Places I had never even used the earbuds. Desperation had obviously set in. They were gone. Was it my carelessness or another’s callousness? Would I even ever know? This morning I put on my white trainers and deep inside there were the case and earbuds. Mystery solved! 

It is human nature to make mistakes and to blame others. To vent our anger out on someone else. Too often the sad truth is the mistake is simply ours. The root cause is right here in us.  How many times do we decide to blame others instead of fixing the problem?

You can get discouraged many times, but you are not a failure until you begin to blame somebody else and stop trying.

John Burroughs


Monday, 5 February 2024

Life of the spirit and the art of carpet cleaning




I contemplate my life, my purpose.

The floor is covered in pieces of dirt. 

Life sneaks through our fingers and drops its debris everywhere.

This carpet will need a good hoover today. 

At times, I feel a bit adrift and rudderless. 

Some of those spots on the carpet will need to be scrubbed after hoovering. 

Finding direction is hard when stationary in the water. 

It’s only when I start to make progress on the carpet. I will suddenly see how filthy the settee has become. 

Momentum is needed to achieve anything of worth in life. 

Perhaps I should make a list, to-do list 
1. hoover carpet 
2. clean spots on the carpet 
3. wipe down the settee

When I get started, I can make some adjustments in life as I go, these first steps are just the beginning!
1. Forgive everyone
2. Work on my own defects
3. Clean the rust from off my soul

Saturday, 20 January 2024

Impossible to fix?


At times, it feels impossible to fix. 

The problem beyond solution. 

However adept and agile the mind, however, clever and cunning the plan. 

It still feels like an impossible task. 

When you've done everything you can, thought it out from every angle, consulted with those with experience or wisdom, or who know you best, then there comes a time to leave it in the hands of God. 

Not like a spoilt child, crying for a parent to fix the broken toy, but with tenderness and humility leave it in the hands of God whose compassion is greater than we can possibly imagine.

Monday, 1 January 2024

Ballybosnia Writer's Group




A writer’s group fuelled by coffee and biscuits. 
An armpit room up steep twisted stairs in a community centre on a dismal estate in Northern Ireland. 
So many houses burned out the locals call it, Ballybosnia. 
The laughter and creativity set hearts aglow. 
Sharing thoughts and experiences of life. 
Rich in failure and very rare successes. 
But open and unveiled. 
A space to share even the raw pain of loss with others. 
For that pain to be spread butter like, over waiting hearts. 
Soaking it up like crumpets and lightening, the teller of sorrows. 
Awakening, empathy and support in the listeners. 
Healing wounds with silence, and some words. 
An honour to share such space with such souls.

"... engage in meaningful conversation in those social spaces open to you; and participate, to the extent possible, in undertakings and efforts directed towards the common good."
The Universal House of Justice