Sunday, October 2 was a gloriously sunny morning, and everywhere looked resplendent in the beauty of nature. I stood outside the house, and thought that on a morning such as this all seemed well with the world, and nothing could disturb.
Alas, my task on that day was to attend two funerals.
One for Mrs Connell. Indeed, it marked the passing of time in many ways, as Mrs Connell was ninety one years of age, and had been very well until recent times.
I knew in my heart that the family would feel sadness, and be grieving from the effect that only the passing of a mother can cause.
It's a wrenching time, no matter how long the person has lived.
For the Connell's it was therefore a sad day. Looking around it was obvious that the family felt the loss acutely.
For myself it brought back memories of school days, and the fond thoughts I had of the Connell family members. Always reserved and respectful.
None of us enjoys going to funerals.
The other funeral taking place was caused by a tragedy of enormous proportions; what can only be called a farm accident.
Sean Reilly, of Gelsha was a man in the prime of life.
A big, strong, and powerful man, who lived a life of working hard, having thoughts of everyone around him to the forefront perpetually.
The evening Sean died was like a lightening bolt followed by the crash, and then the endless rumble of thunder as the news came reverberating throughout the parish.
Nobody could believe it.
Everyone was stunned into silence.
Sean was known as a very particular and careful farmer who was rightly respectful of machinery, so it was doubly ironic, unbelievable and shocking that he died.
His last task was washing the summer machines before putting them away for the winter.
Nothing can prepare a family for the shock, and stress, the Reillys must be going through. Visiting the Gelsha house, in its lofty position, with a view of six counties, one could feel the empty space that permeated the thin air atmosphere.
Bridgie and family, you have our heartfelt sympathy.