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Memory Lane


Aoife aged 12 from St Annes Community College




Memory Lane

Máire sighed. Quiet filled the house. She was all alone and thoughts flooded her head, of the past, the present and the future. She glanced around the small kitchen and remembered the years she spent cooking, cleaning, watching her children grow up. It all had flown by and gazing down at her frail, withered hands she knew she didn’t have long left. She would miss her children, grandchildren and her neighbours and friends. But she had no regrets.



A small girl of about nine skips down an old country boreen, singing along with the birds, care free and innocent. The summer skies are azure blue and mere wisps of clouds float across the sky. She rushes inside her small farmyard cottage where her mother is plating up the dinner.

“What kept you?” she asks laughing. “Playing down at the fairy fort I’d wager!”

The girl laughs along with her mother and her broad shouldered, giant of a father entered the small kitchen. He scoops her up and tickles her belly. “Put her down Mick, for God’s sake,” her mother scolds but a smile is on her face. “Sit down would ye and just eat the dinner”

The shelf was covered in photographs, ones of her and Paddy, three beautiful children and her wonderful grandchildren. Little Abbey was the image of Máire when she was about nine years of age. Her world consisted of sweets, princesses and Barbies. In a way, her childhood was the same except she didn’t grow up with all the dolls, TV and anything she wanted. No, Máire contented herself looking for fairies and pretending she could talk to the farm animals. The doorbell rang and in stepped Sinead her fourteen year old granddaughter.

“Mammy shh!” she whines, “I can’t hear!”

“All right, calm down would you” her mother replies rolling her eyes to heaven. The music begins and the girl, now fourteen years of age, spins and twirls around the room jiving, jitterbugging and twisting. Elvis croons away and her mother shakes her head.

“You could be doing a lot more for me than dancing around the place,” reprimands her mother.

“Mam!” she stops abruptly. “That’s not fair, I helped you t-”

“Calm down, would you I’m joking,” her mam laughs and the girl scowls.



Máire looked Sinead up in down. She pulled out her ear phones and pulled out her phone from her pocket. “Hi Gran” she chirped flicking her side fringe from her face. She wore blue skinny jeans and an oversize jumper. Máire pictured herself at fourteen. Her hair was shoulder length and curly. She remembered the knee length dresses she used to wear and how she dreamed of one day owning a full skirted dress which had been so popular then. She listened to Elvis and different show bands just like Sinead listened to One Direction or one of those groups.

“Any news with you?” Máire asked.

“Going shopping tomorrow, have to get a dress for the disco,” Sinead replies putting her phone away.

The music plays loudly and everyone is dancing. Finally everyone takes a breather and drink punch, eat cakes and gossip.

“Máire, would you look over there. Paddy Kennedy keeps looking at you!” a girl giggles.

“Go away Bríd” says the girl blushing furiously. “He’s coming over! I’ll leave you two to it,” laughs Bríd and she walks away.

“Bríd come b-” hisses the girl but she’s interrupted by a shy hello. She turns around to see a strong, young man smiling shyly at her.

“I was wondering if you’d like to dance?” says the young Paddy Kennedy.

“Of course,” says the girl blushing and smiling from ear to ear.



Máire smiled at the memory and looked again at her granddaughter.

“How’s school anyway?” Máire asked.

“It’s grand I suppose,” Sinead replied carelessly. “It’s really easy this year, no stress of exams or finding your way around.”

“Good, good,” Máire injected. She loved Sinead dearly and was glad that she was happy. Suddenly, Máire started coughing uncontrollably.

“Gran, are you alright ?” Sinead asked.

After the coughing subsided Máire replied “I’m grand, you can put on the kettle there so we can have a chat.” Her voice trembled as she said it and Sinead looked at her with suspicion.

The kettle whistles and Ms McInerney pours yet another cup of tea.

“You’ll be alright love, you mightn’t think it now but you will” she says kindly and slightly awkwardly. Tears run down the girl’s face and she looks lost and alone.

“Do you want a cup of tea?” asks Ms McInerney her old and kindly neighbour. The girl shakes her head and looks ahead staring at nothing. Lying in the next room is her beloved mother, who she had quarrelled with, laughed with and loved who is now dead and left her sixteen year old daughter behind. Her intelligent, capable and strong father is empty and for his daughters’ sake he does not cry. The girl creeps into her mother’s room and holds her hand, saying her final goodbyes. When she walks out of the room she sees her neighbours, friends and Paddy Kennedy who are all there to support her.

Pain racked Máire’s body. The pain of sorrow, of the havoc age had created on her body, of remembrance and the guilt. She had loved her mother so much and every wave of sorrow she felt was fresh and new, like it had only happened yesterday. It was her chest they all said but it never would have killed her if she could have access to the medicine they have now. When she was young, she was nearly angry at her mother, for leaving her so young. She realised now that when it is your time to go, you go and hanging on will help no one. She hoped she would go quickly. She hoped God wouldn’t prolong her family’s suffering.

Máire, no longer a girl but a young woman, walks down the aisle, her arm linked with Ms McInerney. Waiting for her is Paddy Kennedy. Her father is a year dead but the local community had become her family. Ms McInerney is old and frail but there to support Máire in every way. Máire’s eyes water and she scold s herself for being foolish. Why was she crying? Today was the day she could spend forevermore with Paddy Kennedy. She reaches the alter and holds Paddy’s hand. “I love you,” he says and the ceremony begins.

Her neighbours had been so good to her. She remembered the community spirit, how everyone knew who you were, how everyone was always there for you. But here, all her old neighbours were dead and gone and the young couple next door didn’t even know Máire’s name. Paddy was ten years dead now and she had a hole in her heart that would never leave. He had been suffering and in a way it was for the best. It didn’t make it any easier though. Fear began to overwhelm her and tears ran down her face. She didn’t know what was ahead, she didn’t want to have to say goodbye. “Gran!” Sinead cried. “What’s the matter?”

Sinead’s diary! 25-1-13

Dear Diary,

Gran was acting really weird today. She was smiling to herself, then crying and then had a look of fe ar in her eyes. She kept telling me that she loved me so much and about what life was like when she was young. Things have changed since the 40’s and 50’s. She lived such a simple life in a close knit community which was really one big family to her. She went to dances, not so different to me going to discos and played make believe just like my younger sister Abbey. Her cough is really bad and I’m starting to get worried. Does that have anything to do with today’s outburst? She’s invited everyone over for dinner on Sunday. I’m going to help her make dessert. We’re going to get Uncle Matthew and Maria his Girlfriend on Skype. They emigrated to Australia and Gran misses him a lot. There’s Aunty Maura with her husband Kevin and her twin three year olds Sorcha and Jonathan. My Mum, Dad and Abbey are coming too. I am trying to guess Gran’s motives but when I do, I get scared. I hope this isn’t a final goodbye. No one can live forever; it’s one of life’s cold, hard facts. It’s just so hard to say goodbye.


Cora Harrison says

A lovely story - are you finishing it there? Or do you intend to write more? It could finish at that spot - sometimes it's rather nice to leave the reader to put the ending on to it.



One small point - when someone speaks, always start a new line before the first word - then another new line when the reply comes and so on. You can see that I have done it for you here and I think you'll agree that it makes the story easier to read.