Just Mary (37 page)

Then one day, about ten days before he died, Brian called me and said, ‘Mary, I’m sleeping all the time. I sleep twelve hours and I get up and then I want to sleep again.’
Trying to be reassuring, I told him that sleep is good for one, which of course we all know. I remember quoting to him that line from
Macbeth
: ‘Sleep that knits up the ravell’d
sleave of care . . .’ I have always thought these are the most beautiful words, and so apt too, because of course you can go to bed careworn and yet wake up refreshed. Brian immediately asked
me to say the line again, and, when I did, he said, ‘You were always a good teacher.’ As I write now, the tears flow fast and I remember again the earnest 12-year-old boy whom I tutored
in Latin all those years ago. This was the last conversation I had with Brian.

In many ways, I am glad that I didn’t see him again. I am glad that he spent his last days with Patricia and his two children, as they lay down with him that last Tuesday, Wednesday and
Thursday. Brian died on Friday, 10 June 2011. I am glad that my last memory of him is of the happy man who came to the
IT
in Athlone for the presentation of my fellowship. I
am thankful that he had that happy day and that I have that happy memory.

As I write these lines, I can see Brian in his seat, midway down the room in that assembly hall, on the right-hand side, where all my invitees had gathered. I can see him later at the lunch we
had, talking to everyone, moving about, deep in conversation with many people and particularly with Paddy Cooney and Harman Murtagh. Most of all I can imagine him driving around Athlone with Brian
Murphy, revisiting the places and the happy days of his youth in his home town.

Chapter
24

A
fter Brian died, it was a long while before I felt ready to do any public speaking or appearances again. I suppose his death brought back to me
afresh all the pain of losing Enda and also my dear brothers Paddy and Brian Snr. I found myself dwelling a lot on death and all those I had lost. It is something which still preoccupies me, I have
to say, as I cannot help thinking that so many of the men in my life went too soon, before their time — although of course I still have my two lovely sons, Feargal and Aengus, who are a huge
consolation to me.

In time, however, I got back into the swing of things and my new life beyond politics, and was able to enjoy the various opportunities to speak in public which presented themselves. Since my
retirement from active political life, I have given a lot of public lectures — people write to me, having heard me on the radio, for example, asking if I will speak at various events and
public functions, such as book launches, art exhibitions, openings and literary festivals. This year I spoke in Mornington Church in County Louth, where they have a very good pastoral council who
organise such things. For the six Wednesdays of Lent, they had six speakers, of whom I was one, as were journalists David Quinn and Colm O’Rourke. I spoke from the altar on my own perspective
on life and what needs to be done by the Church, something in which I strongly believe. As far as I see it, the Church has to get simple again: it has to be all about the parish priest and the
local parishioners, because my feeling is that it is some of the Bishops with the high hats, and the pomp and circumstance that have alienated people from religion.

For this and many other reasons, I have always thought that separating the Church from the school system is a good idea. Since my retirement from politics, I have been a very enthusiastic member
of the National Board of Educate Together. I am excited by the fact that we are now venturing into secondary level education. We hope to gradually extend our secondary level remit into areas where
Educate Together primary schools already exist. So I remain hugely interested in education.

I have also recently accepted an invitation to become a patron of the Cappagh Hospital Trust, and am looking forward to working with them. In addition to this, I am Honorary President of the
Haemochromatosis Society, which furthers research into the condition to which my brother Brian lost his life.

Since 2011, I have also made some enjoyable forays into media work. Of course as a politician, I always had a lot of dealings with the media, but recently I have had the opportunity to undertake
such work in an altogether different role. In the summer of 2011, I did a stint as guest presenter on Vincent Browne’s
Tonight
show for a week. In 2009, I had appeared on
TV
3’s
Midday
programme a few times, and on the back of this, Andrew Hanlon offered me the chance to do the Vincent Browne show for one of the four weeks of
Vincent’s holidays. As it turned out, I loved it! I was nervous enough until I got going and then my nerves just evaporated.

For my week on
Tonight
, I picked the themes and the panel, in as far as possible. Bertie Ahern agreed to be on the first show, which was a bit of a coup because he doesn’t do much
television. I rang him to say that I was doing the programme and that I wanted to talk about the North, about which I felt there hasn’t been enough coverage here. No matter what can be said
about Bertie, his achievements in terms of the Peace Process cannot be taken away from him. Albert did a lot of work in this respect too of course, and Bertie kept up the momentum, because he
believed in it so much. Anyway, he immediately said he would do the interview and we got very good feedback on that show. I also managed to get Liz O’Donnell, David Trimble and Alex Maskey
from Sinn Féin to participate in that session.

Another night that week, I had a ‘Women Authors’ show, when Deirdre Purcell and others joined me to talk about writing and how they had come by the inspiration for the plots and
characters in their novels. That was a very interesting night. I also did a session on Education, in which Seán Sherlock participated on behalf of Ruairi Quinn, along with some other really
good people, like Gemma Hussey. We did a programme entitled ‘Fiscal Woes of Ireland’, for which I didn’t choose the panel, but I was able to meet and speak with them, and be
briefed beforehand and that session went down well also.

All the shows went out live, which was scary enough, of course. If you are a teacher or in public life, you know that if and when things go wrong, all you have to do is keep calm and just pick
yourself up. And I had great guidance and support from the production team, especially Lisa Marie and Lynda. Vincent Browne had left a script with guidelines for all of the guest presenters, which
said things like, ‘If you find the dialogue going dead, jump up and say “So, what do you think about
that
?” and they will all say “What?” and things will take
off again’.

Later last year, I was asked to make a bid for the Irish Presidency — various
TDS
, Senators and members of the public suggested it to me. But I knew I
couldn’t do it. Imagine being told to ‘stand there, don’t say that, move four paces that way’ and so on! I did give it some serious thought, but I decided pretty quickly
that I would feel too corralled and hemmed in as to what I could say and not say, do and not do. I prefer my life now to be familiar and ordinary and low-key. In a more general sense, I feel that
Fianna Fáil were right not to run anyone in the end — I know that Éamon Ó Cuív doesn’t think it was a good decision, but I do.

While I didn’t go in for the Presidency myself, I did do a lot of work for
RTÉ
during the campaign as a political analyst — something which I very much
enjoyed. I thought a lot about Brian Snr during that 2011 campaign: some very vivid memories came back to me. I also found myself reflecting that, if circumstances had been different, Bertie Ahern
would have been a likely contender for President. I think he would have been good in that role. As for the successful candidate, I know President Michael D. Higgins well — he was Opposition
Spokesperson for Education when I was the Minister. Michael D. would always have been ideological, a little bit like Garret FitzGerald — although more likeable, in my view.

I will always have an abiding interest in politics and I will always welcome the opportunity to have my say and continue to participate in public debate and have a voice. Politics has remained
and will continue to be my biggest passion in life outside of my family.

One of the things I am enjoying most about no longer being so actively involved in public life is that I have been able to spend much more time with my sons and their families, and with other
friends and family members also. Feargal now lives in Dublin with his wife Maeve (née Barry) and their two children, Jennifer and Sam, who are aged nine and seven. Feargal was married
previously to Muriel Moroney, a lovely young woman. They met and married very young, but separated after seven years and then got a divorce. Each of them has since remarried and both are very
happy. Feargal and Maeve and the children come down to Athlone a lot to stay with me.

Aengus lives in Athlone with his wife Lisa (née Dunwoody) and their four children, Luke, Sarah, James and Scott. Lisa, who is originally from Dublin, calls quite often when she is in
town: she will bring the smallest lad, who is only two years old, to see me, and he will say, ‘Mary, go Mary in car!’ I am very blessed with my two daughters-in-law, Maeve and Lisa,
with whom I get on very well: they are like daughters to me. I love them for themselves and as the spouses of my sons and the mothers of my grandchildren. And I love all the grandchildren, of
course: they have added a real texture to my life.

At the end of August last year, I went on holiday with Ann Lenihan (Brian’s mother) and his sister Anita: we went to Madeira for a week. I would regard Ann as my closest female friend.
That was a lovely week: the hotel was great; we relaxed by the pool every day, went to the beach and did some sightseeing. We also talked a lot about Brian which did us all good — it was a
kind of catharsis, and we got some of the grief out of our systems. Ann has had a very rough ride in life — the tough times I have had are nothing compared to what Ann has endured. She lost
her husband; she lost a little boy, Mark, at five years of age; and she lost her first-born son, Brian. How do you cope with that? She had a small stroke herself from which, thankfully, she has
made a great recovery. Ann is a very lively woman, and she has always been that way. I loved that holiday we had and I think it resuscitated me a bit.

Dr Seán Rowland, the founder and director of Hibernia College in Dublin, is among my dearest friends, and we meet frequently. He comes down to see me in Athlone or I go up to Dublin to
meet him. He is truly a sterling friend.

Summer 2011 was intertwined a lot with family, between all my grandchildren, my sisters-in-law and the occasions of my eldest granddaughter Jennifer’s and my grandson Luke’s Holy
Communions. And in mid-July 2011, Brian’s Month’s Mind was held in their family home. Now it is over a year since Brian died. Even very recently, I was speaking with Dermot Moylan, who
had been Brian’s Private Secretary in Finance. Dermot referred to that period working with him as a ‘golden time’, despite the huge daily pressures of the national economic
troubles, political uncertainty and Brian’s failing health. He concluded by saying, ‘There was never a day I didn’t want to go to work for him and with him.’

In so many ways, it is my children and my grandchildren who have sustained me in recent times. I love my sons and their families so much. As for my age, I don’t dwell on it. I am a very
active person and I like to keep my brain occupied too. I have tried to keep myself healthy, both in body and in spirit. I believe in goodness and I believe in love. Love helps to keep you vital
and positive. And there is nothing like grandchildren — they just love you to bits and they make all the difference. It’s compensation — it’s new life again.

Left to right
: Brian, Anne, Paddy and Aunt Chris — I hadn’t arrived!