A Good Irish Wake for A Good Irish Man


4085201_irish_monEveryone else had left the funeral home as Cecil’s family and mine shared another amusing memory and laughed together.  I had broken the ice with the first story but soon everyone spoke up and added their favourite memory of Cecil and the Juneau’s.

The atmosphere was reminiscent of a traditional Irish wake. I looked around the circle at our former neighbour’s smiles and I was surprised, surprised that the antics of our large family had been so entertaining and memorable to Cecil and his clan.  I had simply done whatever came to my mind to keep a lot of little people busy, safe and happy.

Now teenagers, Cecil’s grand-daughters were still delighted with my summer tradition of filling a baby bathtub with ice and snow from my old-fashioned freezer. They played for more than an hour with spoons, cups, bowls and food colouring as I kept the tub filled with frosty snow.

Cecil’s widow especially enjoyed the memory of our “walks” down our short, dead-end country lane. It was a virtual parade that consisted of children all under 12 vying for the opportunity to push the baby in a buggy, a toddler riding on a wagon, dutifully pulled by one of the older kids, a pre-school child sitting on bright yellow duck with wheels, bikes and tricycles ridden in circles around younger siblings and me, usually pregnant, sipping a nice hot cup of tea and walking as slowly as possible.

I think that the image of my two-year old son sitting on Cecil’s knee “helping “ cut grass with a lawn tractor is the best example of his kindness. Matthew was thrilled  simply to sit on the small tractor, even when it was parked.

This excitement never dimmed.  As Matthew grew, he  had to stand on the back of the tractor and finally by seven-years old, he could no longer hitch a ride but could only WALK behind the tractor. My son was still out there with Cecil, walking up and down the rows of grass for hours because Cecil was Matthew best friend in those days. The foundation of their friendship rooted in their mutual love of tractors.

One evening, around 7:30, after Matthew’s bath, I called him for a bedtime story. Matthew peered out the window, watching Cecil work in his garden. This three year-old turned to me and wondered why HE had to go to bed,

“BUT Cecil is still up!”

Advertisements

16 thoughts on “A Good Irish Wake for A Good Irish Man

  1. I remember returning from a close friends mothers funeral. It had begun two days before at the wake. The family were amazing singers and even at the grave there were three songs sang. Then we had the gathering after the funeral. On arriving home I forgot the occasion as I turned to my other friends who had travelled with me and said “Wasn’t that great craic”. We all laughed. It was of course a very very sad day, but her life had been celebrated and just like in your post, anyone who didn’t know her very well got to hear plenty tales going way back.

    Like

  2. I must admit, I would much rather spend an evening remembering the best parts of somebody’s life than weeping and wailing.
    When you think about it, people you love have come together to talk about how much you meant to them. Sounds good to me.
    And I loved the idea of a little boy and an aging man having a great time in each others’ company.
    Lovely post, Mel

    Like

    1. SoundEagle agrees with BIG D, though there could or should be times to be happy and sad about someone who has/had passed away. After all, nostalgia, like love, is a many-splendoured thing!

      Like

  3. Praying for the repose of his soul, and consolation for his family and friends. I seeing and hearing about the simple friendships that spring up so naturally between the young and the old… there’s something special about that – a real blessing!

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s