When somebody dies in the community it has a profound effect on the people of that community. The feeling ricochets from one to the other, magnifying the sadness. We are confronted by our own mortality. We empathise and sympathise, sharing in the days of sadness. Life is profoundly fragile and can be taken in an instant.

It is that realisation that leads us to fear death. While it is the most natural and inevitable thing, very few people want to leave this world. They want to stay with their families and friends.

The challenge of illness and the inevitability about one’s life being shortened is difficult to endure. Visit any one of our hospitals and there you get a sense of just how many people are sick. The goal is to prolong life and preserve quality of life. We know only too well that in some circumstances both are difficult outcomes to achieve.

The magnificent sunshine and summer happiness makes loss even more poignant. Everyone is upbeat and happy, yet there are many families enduring grief or the trauma of difficult news. In the last two weeks I’ve attended three funerals. Since I was a little girl I’ve heard that funerals come in threes. Of course it is nonsense, but I still find myself counting.

Sudden loss

I travelled to Tipperary for the funeral of a young man, JP Moore, who had been taken from his family and community all too soon. He was much younger than me, but I grew up next door to his dedicated parents and siblings. It was most poignant, with his young wife and two little children the chief mourners. I believe a community dies a little when they lose a young father or mother.

That day in Moyne the people just lingered in the graveyard by way of support for the family. The laughter and tears in the church were enough to give me a sense of a strong, witty, caring and pragmatic man who will be sorely missed.

Back in Cork the farming community was rocked by the sudden death of prominent dairy farmer Pat Sweeney. Pat was well known and served his fellow farmers on many committees over the years. Dairy farming was his life, closely followed by his GAA involvements. Family meant everything to him. Pat was a young granddad taken all too soon from his family and his community.

Helen

Our school community has come together over the weekend to lay our dedicated and amazing secretary to rest. Helen O’Connell was a friend to all of us, professional at her job, funny, kind and not ready to die. A diagnosis of terminal illness less than two years ago ripped her heart out. She knew where it would end and Helen did not want to leave her family, her job or her friends. Serious illness is cruel like that.

Losing our peers and colleagues rocks us to the core. The feeling of helplessness is intense. Helen focussed on making memories with us all. We had the most amazing staff summer night out at the end of June. The social committee organised a trip on a beautiful cruiser, out along Cork harbour. The evening was balmy and Cork City looked amazing, bathed in sunshine and reflected into the blue, deep waters.

As staff we had the usual and unusual things going on. We were celebrating Marian’s retirement and long service to our school. We were wishing Lisa well for her wedding. David was going off travelling for the year. But deep in our hearts we were celebrating and loving Helen, wrapping her in fun, stories and discrete care. Each of us feared that she would not be in our midst for our next staff gathering. Helen did too. We have lots of photographs. In most of them she is laughing, but the odd one catches her pensive sadness. But she triumphed above it, getting into the skipper’s seat and wearing the sailor’s hat.

I believe something unusual happened that evening and it was motivated by Helen. Because we were trying so hard for Helen, we had the most amazing time. We came together as one team silently celebrating Helen’s legacy in our school. Much was said by our actions, but no words were spoken. We were inspired and directed by Helen’s dignity and fun-loving character. We will go back to school shortly and I have no doubt that we will pick up that momentum and have an amazing school year.

As I write this, I’m thinking of these three families who are grieving the loss of their loved one. It is not easy. The winter will be hard and lonely, but you will get strength from your wonderful memories. Still, you know that life has been changed utterly.