Jade Doherty lives on a dry stock farm outside Buncrana, Co Donegal, with her husband Gavin and four children, and shares the highs and lows of country life through her blog, Jade The Farmer’s Wife.

Sadly, Jade lost her sister, Tara, last October after she suffered an aneurysm. She was just 45.

Jade reflects on life without her sister, and how she will never be forgotten, in conversation with Maria Moynihan.

“A few weeks before Tara died, she posted a quote on Facebook: “Let your smile change the world, not the world change your smile.” Tara had the brightest smile. When she’d walk into a room, she would light it up.

“Tara was 14 when I was born, so she was like a mother figure to me growing up. She had her own daughter when she was just 19, and later, her son, but she took to motherhood like a duck to water.

“She loved to travel and lived in Germany and in Canada, and was just home about a year before she died. She had lots of different jobs – including working as a post woman – but her plan was to go back to college to do nursing.

“Tara was always there for me. Even when she lived in Canada, we were in touch every day. When I had a miscarriage before having my daughter Darcy, I remember texting her and saying: ‘I feel like I’m crying over nothing.’ She said: ‘You just go to the top of a mountain and you scream and shout and let it all out; you’re entitled to grieve.’ I have that message stored in my phone ever since she died, and I think this is what she would want me to do.

“She was only 45 when she died and so healthy. She loved fitness and went to the gym every day. The last time I saw her was that morning, 10 October 2017. My sister owns a café in Buncrana, The Lily Rose, so we’d always go in after the school drop-off and have a cup of coffee. That morning I was in Slimming World and I had lost a half a stone. When I came in, Tara was like: ‘High five! Well done, keep at it.’ That was the last memory; just a high five, not even a hug.

“Tara was at the gym with her daughter and my other sister on the rowing machine when she collapsed. When I got the phone call, I got straight in the car. I didn’t even tell my husband I was leaving. Tara would always be cool, calm and collected and say: ‘Don’t worry. Everything will be alright.’ I probably turned into Tara that day, telling myself she was going to be alright. Even now, I still can’t believe that she’s not.

Nothing will take away the pain

“That night, we found out she’d had an aneurysm that had ruptured. The doctors said: ‘There’s nothing more we can do for her.’ I don’t remember much about the next few days, except at the funeral, they sang Ave Maria. I had that walking down the aisle for my wedding day and Tara always said she wished she had it on her wedding day. When they started playing it, I just broke down because I thought: ‘They’re playing it at her funeral; and she doesn’t even hear it.’

“I was pregnant the time that she died, but I didn’t realise it. When I found out, I think I just put on my ‘mummy head’ and blocked my grief off. But once I had my baby, I cried for two weeks solid because she’s never met him and she doesn’t even know he exists. It’s so hard that he’s just going to know her through what I tell him.

“Losing a sister is like having your arm cut off. I keep thinking, ‘I’ll ring Tara’ or ‘Tara would love this’… and then remember that she’s gone. I hate getting family photos taken now because she’s not there. I cry over silly things, like a sad song on the radio. Special occasions, like the first Christmas, were hard, but New Year’s Eve was harder, knowing that we were leaving 2017 without her. But what gets me is not this year, but in 10 years’ time, she’s still going to be gone. It’s forever, and I keep thinking: ‘She’s missing everything’.

“I’ve recently started counselling, and my counsellor said that grief, it’s like waves. One day you’re fine and then the next day, something just comes over you. But I honestly think nothing will ever take away the pain of losing Tara. When she died, my heart was actually sore from the pain. I didn’t think that could happen. My heart was actually broken. Talking about her, I can feel the pain again, but if I didn’t talk about her, I’d crack up.

“I just live in hope that she’s looking down on us. It was her birthday on 28 August and we said we would go to the beach, but it never stopped raining all day. I said to Gavin when we were leaving: ‘I’ve been praying all day to Tara to make it stop raining, so if it stops raining when we go to this beach, she’s definitely there.’ The rain stopped and the sun just came out from behind the clouds and gave us the most amazing sunset. And right behind us was a big rainbow. Everyone looked back on their photos when we were all home and everyone’s photo had a wee green orb, like she was definitely there.

“It’s funny how when Tara was here, we almost didn’t appreciate her as much, and now that she’s gone, our life seems to revolve around her. My advice to anybody is to love the people in your life and appreciate every day you’re with them. We will never forget Tara.”

For further information, visit https://jadethefarmerswife.com/

Read more

Embracing farming families

Goodbye, My Son: Marian O'Mahony on coping with the terminal illness of a child