“It’s not the way you look
It’s not the way that you smile
Although there’s something to them
It’s not the way you have your hair
It’s not that certain style
It could be that with you
If I had a photograph of you
It’s something to remind me
I wouldn’t spend my life just wishing”
(Petraglia / Lynne
This Christmas the thin string that suspends life from falling, separates hope from despair, contentment from emptiness, and joy from sadness, snapped and my dear friend, Eileen’s brother Stephen, left us for his next adventure. It was devastating for his wife Maria, three boys, Cian, Naoise, and Oisin, his brothers and sisters, and everyone who had been lucky enough to know him.
But he left us with a love that became evident in the darkness, as it shone brighter. It helps us through. And great memories…
Stephen was the year ahead of me at school. In primary school he was always known as Speedy, due to his athletic and football prowess. When he started secondary school his older cousin Micky was already there and had earned the nick name Yogi. This naturally led to his smaller cousin being named Boo Boo. However the imprint of his studs left on the calves of any football opponents that called him that , meant that he was universally hailed as Speedy.
In my early courtship of my Soulmate I was a regular visitor to the McKenna house and got to know Stephen properly. We shared a love of good music and he had an enviable collection of punk, new age and indie rock featuring New Order, U2, Simple Minds and The Cocteau Twins. He had a great collection of 12” singles at a time when they were new to the rest of us.
Stephen went to UCG after school to study Mechanical Engineering. He met Maria there, and never looked back. He worked for Digital in Galway, Maria started her teaching career and they were the first people we knew that bought a house.
Our lives all intertwined together at different points. My Soulmate ended up working in Galway. She stayed with Stephen and Maria. I was working in Dublin in Hairy Legs and dreamed of opening a shop of my own in Galway. Regular weekend visits became a permanent stay while I explored the city looking for possible shops to rent. This was a disheartening experience, everything was outside my budget. But Galway was great craic. I became very good at the Irish Times crossword, and partial to an afternoon pint in The Quays.
We had many, many great nights out in Galway. Stephen almost always started every meal with a prawn cocktail and then would have the steak. But when it came to drinks, he would change his order with every single round, and the combinations would get steadily weirder, Pernod and blackcurrant, followed by a Galliano and Orange, a whiskey and lemonade and then a brandy and peppermint. Barmen would regularly offer to take our drinks to the table just to see who the weirdo was.
Eventually I moved away and got a job as a sales rep, and a car.
Stephen didn’t drive at this point. His house was in Ballybrit, a walk across the racecourse took him into work each day. Coming up to an August bank holiday I said I’d call and collect him and Maria and then Eileen from work and we’d head to Annascaul for the weekend. Annascaul was a village between Tralee and Dingle. I’d passed through it a few times and stopped at Dan Foley’s pub for a coffee. Dan was a wonderful character. He had been a magician , travelling around schools , and had a wee ‘v’ shape beard and a thin waxed moustache that he curled at each end. He didn’t have a television, radio, and refused to read a newspaper.
“How do you know what’s happening ?” I asked.
“People tell me.”
He said that because his head wasn’t full of nonsense he never forgot a face or a name. Regular tourists and visitors got a kick out of walking back into Dan’s after many years away and being greeted by name, and this in turn led a lot of them taking him back a bottle of spirits either from where they were from, or where they’d visited in the meantime. Behind the bar were row upon row of various bottles of spirits of all different sizes, shapes and colours. I knew immediately that Stephen had to visit.
I’d got Dan a pair of Dr.Martens and he said anytime I wanted to visit that he’d cook me tea and book me into his neighbour’s B&B, so that’s why we ended up in Annascaul on a Saturday night of a bank holiday weekend.
The place was jammed to the rafters, but Dan had kept us 4 stools at the bar. We took our seats and decided on our plan. We picked a shelf and for each round I’d order whatever was in the first bottle, Eileen the second, Maria the third, and Stephen the fourth. The following round I’d pick the fifth bottle, and so on. We had an epic adventure. We drank Japanese bourbon, Ukranian vodka, Chilean Piscola, several rums, countless schnapps and a Riga Black Balsam. Some of the bottles had never been opened before. Anything that we turned our nose up at Dan would immediately throw down the sink, saying dismissively “My Granny drank one of those every night going to bed.”, then he’d open something else and pour generously.
Stephen was in seventh heaven.
I don’t think we paid for a single round that night.
But boy did we pay the next day.
I think Stephen only drank Guinness after that.
I was best man at their wedding. I was surprised to be asked. But incredibly honoured. His brother Gareth was the groomsman. We had a great night’s craic in The Dodge in Gweedore the night before the wedding with all of Stephen’s cousins and friends at karaoke. The last person Stephen slept with before marrying Maria, was me. Somehow we ended up in a double room instead of a twin.
Stephen was remarkably calm. He spent most of the time trying to keep me relaxed and stop panicking about my speech. That was Stephen. It was his big day, and he was worried about Gareth and I being nervous.
The day went well. Mary Robinson was our President then and made a guest appearance…just as I stood up to make my speech. This did not help my nerves, but we made it through. There followed an awesome evening which ended with us all dancing to Goats Don’t Shave until 3am.
I was Cian’s Godfather. Again surprised and honoured to be asked.
We attended lots of family events together over the years. I think the only time I was ever seriously concerned for Stephen’s health was when there would be an inflatable bouncy castle/obstacle course at any party. Stephen was normally stoic, calm, cool, reserved. Challenge him to a race through an inflatable bouncy castle obstacle course however, and the studs up Speedy of old would appear, and it was never his fault if your ribs knocked against his elbow at the start. Stephen would race against his brothers, his sons, and his nephews and nieces. And he would beat them all…repeatedly. Maria would have to start their car in order to convince him that she was leaving and that he had to go.
I have oodles of other memories, many of which we’ve shared together with Stephen’s boys, Cian, Naoise, and Oisin, Maria, and his brothers and sisters. We cherish them all.
Stephen’s boys have all been hit very hard. But they are a living testament to him, and he would be so proud of how they have cared for their Mum, and all visitors over this time. They have his cheeky stoicism….buckets of it.
Stephen’s funeral was lead by Fr. Stephen, a Bulgarian priest. He was a genuinely lovely man, and a great comfort to Maria and the boys. He also had great fun during the funeral pronouncing the boys names, especially Oisin…or Ocean as I prefer to call him now. But the boys gamely corrected him from the front pew. Stephen would have loved that.
Naoise read out this reflection at the end of the mass that he’d written with Cian and Oisin.
It’s perfect.
Husband, Dad, Son, Brother, Godfather…our Dad was renowned by so many for his friendship, leadership, generosity of spirit and comforting calmness. Although we stand here consumed by grief knowing that he will no longer be physically present in our lives, we take solace from the extraordinary impact he made every day to so many people.
Very recently, Dad added a new title to his already glittering CV of life; he finally attained the distinction of becoming a gentleman of leisure after nearly 40 years of solving problems, admittedly some of which he caused in the first place. Dad lived life in the fast lane, and was aptly named Speedy at school. This boundless energy for life helped him overcome any hurdle and achieve what felt like any objective he put his mind to through a work ethic that was second to none. The only area of his life where he failed consistently was beating his three sons in Fantasy Premier League.
We have it on good authority that Dad met Mum when they were both at college. He and his friends marched over to the door of the house across the way, which just happened to be filled with single first years. They knocked on the door, Mum opened it and Dad then asked ‘do you have a potato peeler?’. From those bizarre beginnings blossomed one of life’s true romances, and Dad ultimately became an honorary Gallagher which I know filled him with immeasurable joy. Dad and Mum made a perfect home for my brothers and I, and in later years, Dad became a father figure for his own siblings. Our house was our home but it was also a place where the wider family would convene, Dad welcomed everyone.
You know Dad, I have always thought that if each of us can be half the man that you were, that would be a life well-lived. But we know that you were never satisfied with doing things in halves; you would always remind us that if we were going to do something, do it right. And that applied to our academic exams right through to ensuring that we placed the rubbish in the correct bins; a mistake none of us dared make twice. Dad truly set the bar high for all of us, and whilst he is no longer physically here with us, we will continue to attack each day with that same desire to make him the proudest man in the world.
Whilst nothing one can do or say will ever bring Dad back, the outpouring of support we have received over recent days is a testament to the strength of his character. Always a giver, never a taker, Dad put other people before himself right up until the very end; thanks to the organ donation program, Dad provided two individuals with the ultimate gift this Christmas of a life no longer burdened by dialysis.
Dad was our rock through the highs and lows of life and an incredible man when it came time to seek advice, so accordingly, it makes sense to conclude with a poignant text he sent only a few short weeks ago; “take every day as a gift and enjoy it to the full.”
Rest easy Husband, Dad, Son, Brother, Godfather…but above all, our hero, a true gentleman.
Godspeed Stephen,
Paul
P.S. I’ve been writing a blog for 10 years or so in one guise or another , and I always end with a link to a song. I never knew Stephen even read the blog until , after writing them weekly for 5 years and providing links to over 250 songs, I finished one with a link to The Flock of Seagulls ‘Wishing’ , and I got a one word text from Stephen, it simply read ‘Finally !’
P.P.S This week’s song is Simple Minds ‘New Gold Dream’ because Stephen loved it, but mostly because the video has the song dubbed over Laurel and Hardy dancing to it, and their dancing is eerily similar to Stephen and I’s…rhythmless..but joyful.
