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« The life of the dead is placed on the memories of the living. »
A Story
It was 1988 and I had just started Medicine at UCD.
Amongst many mad and bad societies joined in Freshers’ week, a few friends and I joined the MSVS, Medical Students Voluntary Society for short!
A Story
It was 1988 and I had just started Medicine at UCD.
Amongst many mad and bad societies joined in Freshers’ week, a few friends and I joined the MSVS, Medical Students Voluntary Society for short!
2. My friends and I were chosen to visit Mr. Butler who was housebound due to severe COPD and lived in a small flat on Kevin Street.
We visited him weekly in term time and when we moved to Earlsfort Tce in second year it was an easy walk over.
We visited him weekly in term time and when we moved to Earlsfort Tce in second year it was an easy walk over.
3.Each Friday 2 or 3 of us would head over for a chat.
He told us stories of his childhood, of a forgotten Dublin and of times gone by.
Tales of childhood trips to Bray, of picnics,sunburn and sand between your toes.
Tales of driving a car for the first time in the 1950’s.
He told us stories of his childhood, of a forgotten Dublin and of times gone by.
Tales of childhood trips to Bray, of picnics,sunburn and sand between your toes.
Tales of driving a car for the first time in the 1950’s.
4. Stories from nights out for a dance at the Olympic ballroom
There were gaps in his stories too that we never explored but over the course of the next couple of years we became firm friends.
There were gaps in his stories too that we never explored but over the course of the next couple of years we became firm friends.
5. He introduced us to the local pigeons whom he used to feed and chat to as they strutted outside and cheekily came through his door
A door he always kept open;for his breathing he said
Perhaps, but also to watch the world go by.
He said not to worry,he had nothing worth robbing
A door he always kept open;for his breathing he said
Perhaps, but also to watch the world go by.
He said not to worry,he had nothing worth robbing
6. He would shout and wave his stick at the hapless pigeons who always came back for more.
Like us they knew his bark was worse than his bite
Once a duck, escaped from Stephen’s Green, came by and was talked about for many a month thereafter.
Like us they knew his bark was worse than his bite
Once a duck, escaped from Stephen’s Green, came by and was talked about for many a month thereafter.
7. He couldn’t make a cup of tea but he would offer us a glass of red TK lemonade pulled from the locker beside his bed. Then one day he proudly produced the accompaniment-his half full bottle of Power’s whisky and poured a drop of the gold stuff into our fizzing lemonade!
8. One year after Christmas he invited us to a night out in the newly decorated Whelan’s pub. Only a short walk for us, but challenging for him.
All dressed up he was,in his best suit, and a fine grey wool overcoat with a white silk scarf draped over his shoulders.
All dressed up he was,in his best suit, and a fine grey wool overcoat with a white silk scarf draped over his shoulders.
9. He walked us over, or we walked him, a girl on each arm plus one, and proudly introduced us to the barman as he called for drinks.
One slow-pulled Pint-of-Plain which he took in with obvious satisfaction, contemplating it before a long slow tasting, a rim of foam on his lips
One slow-pulled Pint-of-Plain which he took in with obvious satisfaction, contemplating it before a long slow tasting, a rim of foam on his lips
10. What a night of fun and laughter in the beautifully restored pub with the dark wood all around, a backdrop to the easy chatter and laughter of friends. And of course, a shot for the road.
Shortly after he was admitted to the old Meath Hospital with pneumonia.
Shortly after he was admitted to the old Meath Hospital with pneumonia.
11.After discharge he was less well than before and we were busy with exams so often I went alone or not at all.
Another admission to hospital and Bridie, his carer, told us he would love a visit.
Another admission to hospital and Bridie, his carer, told us he would love a visit.
12.I remember the pattern on the floor of the staircase,the open ward,the iron frame bed and he half happy to see us,half vexed that we would see him this way.
We were from elsewhere,a dream of another earlier happier time,not the waning heart or weakening breath of his illness
We were from elsewhere,a dream of another earlier happier time,not the waning heart or weakening breath of his illness
13. We didn’t see him again. A call from Bridie with the funeral date.
Fewer than ten people were in attendance and it was important to be there for our friend, to bid our last goodbyes to the gallant man, our host and Seanchaí.
Fewer than ten people were in attendance and it was important to be there for our friend, to bid our last goodbyes to the gallant man, our host and Seanchaí.
14. He whom I will always remember as he was when he held his head high and walked proudly with his 3 young lady friends into his local, not so many months before
Why tell this now?
The ghost of a memory aroused during a chance conversation perhaps and a quote read this morning
Why tell this now?
The ghost of a memory aroused during a chance conversation perhaps and a quote read this morning
15. Over 30 years later I can understand better what our visits must have meant to him in his housebound, lonely state.
A man of stories found his audience once again
Think of your older friends or neighbours on long cold winter nights, pay them a visit,listen to their stories.
A man of stories found his audience once again
Think of your older friends or neighbours on long cold winter nights, pay them a visit,listen to their stories.
16.
For « the life of the dead is placed on the memories of the living. The love you gave in life keeps people alive beyond their time. Anyone who was given love will always live on in another's heart. »
Marcus Tullius Cicero
For « the life of the dead is placed on the memories of the living. The love you gave in life keeps people alive beyond their time. Anyone who was given love will always live on in another's heart. »
Marcus Tullius Cicero
