Home Truths

The number 16 bus shuddered to a sudden halt, the bus driving beeping his horn and roaring at the drug addict who stumbled across the road without a care for what was coming his way.  Séamus was rapidly thrown back, but luckily his hand was on the rail, so he was able to arrest his fall. The shooting pain in his arm sure made him wince.  A few seconds later the bus arrived at the stop on O' Connell Street and Séamus got off, his arm hurting even more now due to hauling his cases with him. 

He stood still and silent in a semi-daze. It was thirty eight years since he was last on this street. That was when his cousin Patrick drove him to Dublin Airport, where he caught a flight to Boston.  It was almost at this very spot 2 years previous, the year 1975, he stood with his grieving parents as they paid their respects to the Eamonn DeValera, as the hearse slowly drove past.   His Mother and Father were as Fianna Fail as could be, and he and the rest of his brothers and sisters didn't have to be told to make their way to Dublin on September 3rd, they just did, as they knew full well  the consequences had they not.  Sure how could he forget the Saturday afternoon when he came home from Wexford town with his new pair of slacks in tow.  His Mother asked him where he bought them; he fumbled in his pockets, found the receipt and told her the name of the shop.  Well, what his Mother didn't say! Apparently the shop owners' Great Grandfather was part of the group of Royal Irish Constabulary who defeated the rebels in Ferns, when they rose up in 1916 in solidarity with their Dublin comrades, and, the story his Granny told his Mother a hundred times, was now being told to him for the hundredth time too.  

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He walked down the street looking at all the buildings and taking in the words and demeanours of the people he passed be they young or old.  The Savoy cinema was still there as was The Gresham Hotel, but many places had long since departed the streetscape.  He'll never forget the size of the queue into the Green Rooster Café after DeValera's funeral had long passed. He clearly remembers going there, as the taste of the burger he had never left him. He had visited many burger joints in the US since then, but none compared to the quarter pounder with the "Rooster Special Sauce" he had in 1975.  He adjusted his glasses, and could see that it was now called Eddie Rockets.  He looked at his watch, there was two hours to go before his train to Gorey departed Connolly Station. He decided to fulfil a Childhood dream, and sample the Gresham's Afternoon Tea. He would drool at a display of it in the window as he walked past as a child, when the whole family once took the day trip to Dublin for the Christmas shopping. 

He crossed the road and headed onto Henry Street, and then turned onto Moore Street.  Gone was the big imposing Roches Stores sign, and instead of people imploring him to, "get the last of the Cheeky Charlies", he had people telling him he should praise the lord. There was a lot less people now selling fruit and fish than when he last walked through, as he and Patrick picked up stuff for dinner, as they headed home from Switzers, after finding the perfect suit.  How the street had changed in that time. Back in the 70's an African or Asian person walking the streets of Dublin, was as rare as snow on Christmas day. Now in front of his very eyes, was a plethora of different nationalities selling all sorts of things from hair extensions, to exotic foods.

His tastebuds tingled as he prepared himself for the journey home. The ham and vegetables in his sandwich tasted so much better than they did in the States.  And the cream, my god! the cream on the apple tart!

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How would his sister Anne react when he knocked on her front door? Sure they hadn't contacted each other since he left for Dublin Airport that fateful day.  He wondered how things might have been oh so different if Sister Áine, the evil nun from the convent school, hadn't caught him kissing that lad Richard from Ballycanew, in the disused shed beside the train station and went running to his parents with the news. This news - coupled with Séamus's admission when  he got home that he was gay - devastated his parents no end. 
 

He was told to leave the house forthwith, and his younger brother and sister were warned to never speak to him again, lest they be sent to hell, like their brother when they died as well.  Séamus and his cousin Patrick were like brothers, and both would do anything for each other.  He walked to the phone box with the number for the Posts and Telegraph's building, near o' Connell Street. Patrick worked there, and he prayed he would still be in work.  Luckily he was.  Patrick asked him had he much money on him. When Séamus told him the amount, he was told he could get a train ticket to Bray Station with it. He was to get on the Rosslare train at Gorey, which stopped there around 19.00, and Patrick would drive to Bray after work to pick him up. 

Séamus spent two months sleeping on the couch in Patrick's little flat in Rathmines.  He got a job in a shoe shop in Ranelagh, thanks to a friend of Patrick's that worked there. However two months later he was sacked on the spot, when a former neighbour from Gorey, now living in Clonskeagh, told the owners he was gay, after spotting him whilst browsing the shops range of size 7's. 
 

He had been receiving letters from Richard, who got a job working for American Airlines in Boston.  He had flown to Boston 6 months previously, and at first stayed with a cousin of his Mother's, before finding a place of his own to stay. 
Three weeks after losing the shoe shop job, he got a reply to his letter to Richard informing him of this news.  To his surprise, enclosed was a one way Aer Lingus ticket to Boston. A friend of Richard's from New Ross named Paddy Dempsey - who was also to become a lifelong friend of Séamus - worked for Aer Lingus at the desk in Boston Airport, and was able to sort out an air fare at a fraction of the usual cost. 
 

Upon hearing the news, the first words from his cousin were "Boston you say? You lucky divil, You're going and that's that. Right, we'll have to take a trip to Switzers on Saturday, so I can get you a good suit to wear at job interviews over there."

So on the third Saturday in April 1977, Séamus tearfully handed Patrick a letter for his parents, and headed through security at Dublin Airport. As the plane took off, Séamus looked out the window. It was a bitterly cold frosty morning over Dublin, and the fields beside the airport glistened like silver. As he spotted the famous stacks at the Pigeon House, he wondered how his parents would react upon reading his letter, and he wondered when he would see Ireland again. When Patrick gave his auntie the letter, and explained its significance, she just ripped it up there and then, and roared that when she told Séamus she never wanted to see or hear of him again, by god she meant it!

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The beep, beep on the train doors as they automatically closed resounded round the train.  Well he remembered the awful job one had as they panicked in trying to turn the rusty handle on the doors of the trains back in the 70's lest they would not be able to open it in time, and the train would start to roll past their stop; as your Mother or Father standing on the platform looked on in horror. As the train whizzed past the DART stations, most of which did not exist thirty eight years ago, he noted what he could of their construction.
When the train stopped at Dun Laoghaire/Mallin Station, he got off the train for a few seconds, to take in the sea air, and glance quickly as to how this station had changed since he last set eyes on it. 
 

Many's a night he spent hours glued to Google Street view, looking at the streets of Dublin, and more so the streets of his hometown of Gorey and the other towns and villages of Wexford he knew so well. 
Soon he will be seeing sensing and smelling the sights and sounds of his hometown. To his delight he saw via Google Street view that Murphy's coffee Shop was still on Main Street. Many's an evening he would have given his right arm for a slice of their soda bread.  He will go there to ask if anyone knows where his sister Anne now lives, because if anyone knows, Peter Murphy will!  Thirty Eight years had passed since he last spoke to his sister . He had sent letters to the family home with her name on them, but never got a reply.  He saw photos on Facebook, that included her in them. It must be her Children's, his nieces and nephews pages he sussed, but he hadn't the courage to so much as send a simple message saying "Hi."
 

How he cried when Patrick informed him firstly of his Father's death, and then three years later his Mothers. He never forgot Patrick's kindness in the days and weeks he was kicked out of home. When Patrick was diagnosed with a bad case of arthritis the doctors urged him to move somewhere sunny, as this would help his condition no end. Séamus put down the deposit, and  paid off the difference between the sale price of his cousin's house in Inchicore, and a Villa he saw online for sale in Alicante. His cousin still lives there to this day.   

As the train left Greystones station, he checked inside his jacket pocket to make sure the letter was still there.  It was three years since his partner, Richard, finally succumbed to cancer, after a lengthy two year fight. Two months before he died, Richard handed him a letter and made Séamus promise he would hand deliver it to his family in Ballycanew. 
 

Numerous times before he had stared at the Aer Lingus webpage, his hand trembling like a washing machine as he tried to hover over the menus to click on them, and make a booking. Each time he simply couldn't do it, the weight of history bearing too heavily on him. 
Then came Saturday May 23rd 2015.  He sat watching the video clips in delight and disbelief. Ireland, yes THE Ireland he was forced to flee thirty eight years ago, where you could lose your livelihood on the spot if outed as being gay, had on that very day voted to allow same sex marriages!
 

I suppose you might say the adrenaline rush brought on by the elation he experienced watching the celebrations in Dublin gave him the push he needed, and he woke up the next morning, rubbed his eyes, and went to his computer table. Yes it was real, that was a print out of an Aer Lingus booking from Boston to Dublin. After 38 long years, he was finally coming home.

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Though he had thought about the whole scenario, over and over, what he would say when he met his sister, and her children, he found it hard to sleep for many nights due to his overactive brain. When the electronic voice on the train boomed "Guaire stad eile - Next stop Gorey" his heart began to beat faster and faster, his arms stiffening as he gripped the  seatrests at the realisation that this is it, this really and truly is it.

When Séamus got off the train at Gorey, he was suddenly overcome with emotion.  He just stood on the platform weeping uncontrollably.  An Irish Rail worker walked over to him, to ask him if he was alright.  He replied " You won't believe me when I say that this is my first time to set foot in my hometown in over 38 years."  The man asked him his name, to which he answered "Séamus Murphy, I was born and reared in No. 6 Eire Street, and I attended the Christian Brothers school at the top of the town."  For a moment the spectacled station attendant stood in stunned silence before replying, "Jaysus I'll never forget the wallop Brother Alphonsus gave you when he caught you smoking beside the boiler room.  You probably don't recognise me now, by god it's been a long time gone for sure, but it's me, Mikey Ryan, do ya remember me? We were the two that represented our school at handball."  Without saying a word, Séamus hugged Mikey, and began crying even more.  His old school pal informed him he was free for 3 hours, until the train from Rosslare to Dublin arrived, and invited him to go for tea and a chat.  Seámus countered that he would murder a pint of Guinness, and told Mikey if he changed his offer to French's Bar, they had a deal.

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Mikey and Séamus sat talking about each others lives, with Séamus particularly  asking Mikey many questions about his parents and his late brother.  He wondered if Mikey had found out if the mass card upon his brother Peter's death had made it to the family home? Peter sadly died in a farming accident. He was checking for a fault in the combine harvester, but had forgotten to ensure it had been turned off beforehand.  He didn't tell him that it was Richard that had posted the mass card without Séamus's knowledge, having signed the card in his partners name. Séamus had bought the mass card and spent hours trying to put a pen to use, but he just couldn't think of what to write, and ended up leaving it blank on the worktop.
 

His sister Anne, he then found out, was living in Enniscorthy. She had worked for many years behind the bar of the Antique Tavern, until it closed down. It has reopened recently, but "There's only shockin' looking young wans with tattoos, and them yokes in their nose working in it now" according to Mikey. Mikey's son Robert was a taxi driver, and when Mikey rang him to tell him the story, kindly offered to drive him there for just €20.   

Upon arrival in Enniscorthy they pulled up to a taxi office, whereupon Robert went into to ask if they knew where Anne lived. Bingo! Anne was a customer of the firm, and they were able to give him her address.

So the taxi drove up to the house situated in an estate called Nolan's Lawn.  There was some kids playing hurling with their father in the green space the houses encircled.  Séamus recognised the father from Facebook photos - it was his nephew Thomas.
 

Séamus got out of the car, and assured Robert he was fine, and "sure wasn't it time enough he was back reading bedtime stories with his own kids." He placed one hand on the front gate, and strained his eyes a bit to confirm that the house number sign that was silhouetted by a porch light was indeed No.8. It was. 
With that he heard a voice, "Eh hello, Can I help you?." He turned around and standing right in front of him was Thomas. He slowly and shakily offered his hand and muttered "H-h-hello, I'm, I'm you're-you're Uncle Séamus, you might not know me, because I left this country seven years before you were even born." 
"Well holy god, I can't believe it, Uncle Séamus it's really you!  You don't know how many nights my poor Mother cried herself to sleep thinking about you. The amount of times she relayed the story of my grandparents kicking you out. Every year on your birthday and Christmas Day she would tell us that story, remembering it as if it was yesterday. Oh god,... Thomas started crying and hugged his uncle.

With that the front door opened and a lady appeared "What's all the comm..  (Then a few seconds silence that seemed like an eternity) Oh Jesus! oh Jesus! it can't be! god no!..." Séamus turned and faced his sister who at that point lost her footing and slumped to the ground, roaring crying as she did.  Séamus slowly took hold of her hand and gently pulled her up. She stood there staring him intently in the eye, looking for a mark she remembered her brother had on his forehead just above his nose. There it was as brown as could be. She then spotted his cows lick curl. The big pimple behind his ear had stood the test of time too. At that point she hugged him, whilst looking up to the sky, weeping as she exclaimed over and over "Thank you lord, thank you, thank you. All those times I prayed to you, thinking you didn't care, but you DID, you answered my one and only prayer!"

They went inside and tea and scones were set on the table. It was 20.00, but brother and sister kept talking and talking, filling in the gaps since they had last spoken to each other thirty eight years ago, til Anne realised it was 4am, and suggested they should both get some sleep. Anne desperately wanted to try contact him over the years, but at the same time was fearful her parents would disown her as well, and thus deprive her kids of grandparents, for doing so.  This dreaded fear held her back. 

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After her Mother passed away, she personally sought out Richards sister, who was his only sibling, to see if she knew anything of Séamus's whereabouts. Sadly the sister practically ran her from the front door of her farmhouse in Ferns, roaring, "How dare you mention that man's name in my presence! He has sinned in the eyes of the lord and is going straight to hell."

  

 The next day Thomas passed on the wonderful news to other family members, and relations. Thomas then drove with them to Gorey, where they stood outside their old house, which someone else lived in, and stood at what was once the old dance hall reminiscing over the bands they danced to, and the people they kissed afterwards; keeping one eye out for the priest with his torch! Séamus then brought his sister for lunch in Murphys Cafe, and to his joy, the soda bread hadn't changed one bit. Whilst they were sitting at a table chatting, he told her about their cousin Patrick.  Sadly, Patrick had been told wrongly that Anne and Peter had sided 100% with their parents, and took the same view as they did. This angered their cousin so much he resolved never to speak to them again.  As they sat there at the table chatting, Séamus told his sister he had only booked a one way ticket to Dublin, as he was flying to Spain the following week to visit Patrick at his villa. Her eyes lit up, and she firmly clasped his hand, when he asked Anne if she would come to Alicante with him, and he'd pay for the flights.  

A few nights later, a gathering was organised in Treacy's Hotel, and a right crowd turned up to celebrate the return of Uncle/cousin Séamus. Various relatives kindly offered him presents of photographic, and historical books about County Wexford. 
The craic was 90, and Séamus was having a ball, when something happened towards the end of the night. that stopped him in his tracks.  Anne walked over to him, and handed him an envelope, saying "It's amazing what computers can do these days. Well all thanks goes to my son, Thomas, for his hard work, you'd hardly think there was ever a tear or a crease in it. Truth be told, I went to bed with the original beside me every night, and put it in my inside pocket and took it to mass every Sunday without fail, since our Mother passed away"
Seámus removed the item from the envelope, and the tears welled up, as he slowly caressed it with his hand. He was holding a digitally re-mastered photograph of himself on his confirmation day, and his parents as proud as punch standing behind him.

So Séamus and Anne flew to Alicante to visit Patrick, and things happily were straightened out, and all three had a lovely time in the sunshine. They now regularly Skype each other on Sunday evenings, when Thomas visits his Mother's house, whereupon he plugs in the Laptop, and sets up the Skype Call between the two of them. 
 

The following August Patrick flew to Dublin Airport, and he and Anne together boarded a plane to Boston. Anne marvelled at the big discount Séamus managed to get them on their flights, all thanks to an Aer Lingus staff member, who was the daughter of one Paddy Dempsey from New Ross...

 THE END.