Did Ye Hear Mammy Died? A Memoir(60)

Anne O’Donnell, who was a pillar of strength for my mother during her illness, and for all of us after she died. Your work throughout the period covered in this book helped keep us going, and I’ve never thanked you enough.

Patricia Donnelly, for being a source of love and laughter across my entire life, and a truly priceless ambassador for my mother’s memory since I was old enough to barrage you with questions. (And barrage you I certainly did.) In preserving my mother’s letters, you kept more of her alive for us than you could ever imagine. But even that is secondary to the life you breathe into her memory every time you speak of her.

My auntie Aileen McGullion, whose unwavering support and love has been a constant in our lives, not to mention hosting all of us for weeks in the events described in the chapter “Jeremy.” Thank you for giving your time to be quizzed by me on everything about that time and about Mammy, and for doing so with such joy that I don’t think we stopped laughing for more than a few seconds throughout. I would like to formally apologise for bouncing on the bed as I told you the bad news, but am glad you saw the bleak humour in it too.

Sean, Marian, and all the Burkes and O’Neills, the finest in-laws, friends and grandparents anyone could ever ask for. I’m in the rare position of having reached adulthood only to gain a whole other warm, funny, kind and pleasingly loud family by marriage, and I do not take that for granted. A special, added thank you to Marian for her tireless support toward, and promotion of, this book, which she took to with startling aplomb, not least when she sternly told a bishop to buy his own copy when he suggested he would borrow one. I’d estimate 80% of its Irish sales can be attributed directly to her missionary zeal, and for this she deserves not only credit, but probably a VP role at a major publishing company. I am willing to forward her CV to anyone interested.

My siblings (presented in age order and all in one breath) Sinead, Dara, Shane, Orla, Maeve, Mairead, Dearbhaile, Caoimhe, Fionnuala and Conall. Telling this story meant, to some extent, telling your story but leaving you out of large parts of it. Thank you for tolerating this imposition into your own childhoods, and sorry if you feel I didn’t give you enough mentions, or too many mentions by half. Thank you for being kind and patient with me as I peppered you with questions for this book, which I took as a wonderful excuse to find out things about Mammy, yourselves, and myself, that I never would otherwise have asked. The nuggets of family lore that filled our now famous Best Face Forward WhatsApp group is one of the most treasured archives a writer, or a brother, could ever dream of. I love you all.

My father, Joe, who features prominently in this book, but even more prominently in my thoughts and feelings every day. To some extent, this entire book is one long thank you to you, and the sacrifices you made to make my childhood one that contained as much humour and absurdity as it did. I don’t think even you understand what a gift that’s been to me, and to all of us. Thank you for being as generous with your memories – granted, after a certain amount of wheedling from me – as you have been with your time, energy and understanding throughout my life. I can’t wait to hear your every objection and correction to each error and misapprehension you find in these pages. Where I have stretched reality to grasp a joke, I hope you’ll understand, or offer forgiveness. You have forgiven me for worse in the past. For that and for everything else, I can’t ever thank you enough.

I’d like to thank my wonderful wife Ciara for her reassurance, criticism and undying support, not least literal financial support when I quit my job to write full time. A lot of writing is spent thinking you’re not very good, so it’s occasionally useful to have someone around who’s not afraid to put that suspicion outside all doubt. And there’s no better feeling than when you – specifically you – like something I’ve done. My mission in life remains to make you laugh, and I am glad the book has even now had good reason to make you cry once or twice. I adore you beyond words but, since that’s what books are made of, they’ll have to do this once. I love you.

And to Ruadh, the bright, burning star in my sky, who makes life better, sweeter and happier every single day he’s in it. Each extra layer of depth you’ve added to my heart has helped me dig deeper into the deep stuff. I could not have written this book without you.