I pointed out the sad irony, that we only get together these days for funerals. Mark lived in Bangkok, other cousins live in far flung places such as Rio. And Gosford. But it seemed that the Campbelltown area is where we all originally sprung from.
Dad went to primary school there. He used to ride 3 miles on a Sunday to be an alter boy at the church. That side of my family are extraordinary devoted to their God, and I felt strange being the only person in the church not to partake in the body of Christ yesterday.
HEATHEN!
But like all good Irish Catholics, they love a punt and a drink and a laugh. And so we followed this path at the end of the burial.
This is Dad and Cousin Noel. Father Noel to be exact. He is a priest and Dad was also in the seminary with him before Mum came along and stole him from Jesus with her impressive bosom and doe brown eyes.
Father Noel ended up marrying them a year or so later. He told me that the reception place that they held the party in is now a funeral home.
Ironic.
My ageless Aunty Pat was positively splendid in purple, always groomed to within an inch of her life. Nearing 90, she took out Best In Show, or Fashions on the Field if indeed I was to hand out an award.
Can you believe some asshole broke into her home and stole all of her jewels recently? (including some of my earrings that I had lent to her.)
Her friend bought her this rocking necklace so she can start to rebuild her collection again.
I got to visit with my great, great, great, great Grandmother.
Her name was Honora Malloy. She arrived from Ireland as a free settler in 1860. Honora lived in a boarding house in Goulburn Street, Sydney before moving to the Appin area with her husband.
Her husband then left her for the town bike and ended up in Maitland Jail, serving time for manslaughter after knocking a bloke into next week during a bar fight.
KARMA!
Mark believed in the importance of the three R's.
Rugby, Red Wine and Rock Music.
Then it was time to say goodbye to everyone and make our way back to the mundane. We passed this fella....
And I had to stop the tears from running down my legs.
Life is wonderful. Family are everything. Everyday I learn something new about myself.
send hand cream.... |
Her husband then left her for the town bike and ended up in Maitland Jail, serving time for manslaughter after knocking a bloke into next week during a bar fight.
KARMA!
Mark believed in the importance of the three R's.
Rugby, Red Wine and Rock Music.
Then it was time to say goodbye to everyone and make our way back to the mundane. We passed this fella....
And I had to stop the tears from running down my legs.
Life is wonderful. Family are everything. Everyday I learn something new about myself.
Do you know where you really came from?