He won’t admit it but I think my dad now has RIP.ie alerts on his phone for the parish. Either that or he does a good weekly scroll through the local death notices because there’s too many calls these days that start with, “D’ya know who I saw died on RIP?” So, after a conversation about the passing of the lad down in the pub who drank Guinness in a Heineken glass – I worked there in college, and still associate the locals with their drink of choice – it got me thinking about RIP.ie and the part it plays in the Irish grieving process.

I’m sure there are versions of this website in other countries but us Irish, we’ve embraced it as part of our commitment to ‘doing death right’. I remember when my grandfather died in 1992, going to the newsagents with Dad to buy The Cork Examiner, as it was then, to see the death notice, but these days we refresh RIP.ie incessantly once we hear of someone’s passing.

There are of course, the practicalities – time and date of removal and funeral, the necessary Eircode and where to offer donations in lieu of flowers. But the devil is in the detail and it offers the opportunity to start memorising the name of our neighbour’s sister’s husband so that our condolences feel more ‘personal’. Then there’s the analysis of the wording: ‘Did you notice that Mary’s son-in-law wasn’t named?

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There must be trouble brewing. Actually, I did hear that he was seen heading into the local solicitor.’ Who would have thought when the website first started that it would become the online portal for parish gossip? But beyond the practicalities and analysis, it also plays a beautiful part in the Irish grieving process.

Recently, a family friend passed away, a lovely lady who was very much part of my teenage years. She had a warm, welcoming home where the door was always open, and the kettle was always on. But I haven’t seen her in a while, and so, in that time between hearing she passed and attending her funeral, I was in that limbo land – thinking of her while the normal humdrum of life went on. So I did what any person does these days to fill the void, I scrolled the condolences on RIP.ie.

Who would have thought when the website first started that it would become the online portal for parish gossip? But beyond the practicalities and analysis, it also plays a beautiful part in the Irish grieving process

What these condolences now offer is a beautiful snapshot – all the threads weave together, painting the picture of someone’s life. There may be words from work colleagues – the people they spent their days with – who may know how they took their tea and their family members by name, although perhaps they never met them. The local hairdresser, who doubles up as a counsellor can express their sadness of that empty chair. Neighbours detail that person’s involvement in the parish or Tidy Towns or their presence on the GAA pitch – while friends from the past can offer a few lines reflecting on ‘the good old days’. It has added something to the grieving process that simply can’t be captured in the emotional and tiresome condolence line at a funeral.

For our family friend that passed, there’s two descriptions that are a common theme through her list of condolences, her cheerful personality and her hearty laugh, something I too remember.

In their darkest days, isn’t that a beautiful way for her family to know that beyond the home, that was the impression she made everyday in people’s lives.

Ar dheis Dé go raibh a hanam.