Unravelling The Threads

“I’ll take you home, Mum”, five words I spoke to my mother. I

held her frozen hands as she lay in her coffin in the chapel of rest, a week

after her death. Her traumatic painful life was over.

In heaven now, Dearest Mum, you will know how much I have

loved you all my life, and may realize how desperately I needed your

support, and longed for your affection. You will know howmuch I longed

to be like you longed to have your personality your charm and sense of

humour, to be able to twist everyone around your little finger as you did

so they thought you were a lovely lady - which you were.

You told me that as a young Irish girl living in England whenever

“I’ll take you home Kathleen” came on the radio you would cry. You so

longed to be home. You will be soon.

Scattering my mother’s ashes on the grave of her parents,Michael

and ElizabethMerriman, in that cemetery in the heart of Ireland where

she was born was the only way I knew of showingmy love for themother

I never knew.