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An old farmhouse nestled along a winding rural road; the hub of our family.
Her house was the centre of the wheel for our entire family - aunts, uncles, cousins, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, neighbours and friends gathered there.
Her doors were always open.
Nana was the pinnacle of our family and all spokes lead to her.
It was more than just a farmhouse though it was a home and it holds a very special place in my heart.
As I write this piece my mind wanders back to my childhood days of calling down to see Nana, of Sunday spins to the beach and evenings spent sitting by the fire watching Judge Judy call the shots.
All memories now. Happy memories of a happy place. My happy place.
The house, and the woman at the centre of it, was the glue that held our family together.
You could drop in on any given day and you would be sure to find her either sitting in her chair in the sitting-room poking at the fire, standing at the kitchen table making her famous brown bread and marmalade or out in the yard looking for one of her hens that had escaped (again).
Her house was a hive of activity; the yard was always buzzing with farmers rushing here and there and with 18 of us grandchildren and as many more great-grandchildren, there was always someone visiting for a chat and a cup of tea.
That was the thing about Nana; she loved to chat and I always left her house laughing at something she had said or marvelling at a story she had told.
She had a profound influence on everyone who walked through that house although she had a special way of making you feel like you were the only one.
She instilled some of life’s most important qualities in me; that your health is your wealth, education is a privilege we must take advantage of and the importance of being independent should never be underestimated.
And Nana embodied each and every one of those qualities.
She treasured being healthy and, even in her later years, enjoyed a sneaky dip in the sea during summers spent in Rosslare. She embraced education reading the Independent from back to front every morning and then giving out about the latest political scandal for the rest of the day. And she was independent! Long before Beyonce released her chart topping ‘Independent Women’, Nana was leading the way as an independent lady even driving to the shops and mass at the age of 91.
In the days after Nana's passing her house was where we gathered. It was where we needed to be; each of us reminiscing on our own memories of olden times and funny stories.
Strangely enough it was my happy place. For those few days it was where I needed to be to feel close to Nana.
There was a profound sense of family, of love and of togetherness during those sad days.
In the midst of all the sadness and grief, Nana's house remained the hub we had always known it to be. It, or rather she, remained the glue that held us together.
Nana’s house remained the light in our darkest time.
It was my happy place. Our happy place.
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