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| Story ID: | 203 |
| Written by: | Veronica Breen Hogle (bio, contact, other stories) |
| Organization: | Irish Cultural Events |
| Story type: | Poem |
| Location: | Curragh Army Camp Kildare Ireland |
| Year: | 1916 |
| Person: | Eileen Josephine - My Mother |
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How lovely ‘tis to have you, Eileen Josephine, celebrating the day you were born in the Curragh Army Camp in 1916 Within weeks, cannon guns pounded and bayonettes clashed in near-by Dublin as Irish rebels hoisted the green, white and gold over the General Post Office You lay awake in your cradle, your feet flying, as if marching to the beat of the drums How lovely ‘tis to see you so content with your life well lived proud mother of four, published poet, restaurateur and chef extraordinaire Even tho’ time has stolen your hearing, turned your nut brown hair to silver, dimmed your green eyes, and made you tiny like a fragile Dresden doll you still write letters to the editor and government leaders warning them they’ll rue the day they constructed thruways through Ireland’s sacred sites, taking the beauty away How lovely ‘tis that you are hailed as the local historian uncovering the final resting places of executed “croppie” rebels kneeling and tending their graves as if your own sons were buried there From the love and labor of your bare hands these men and women now lie under moss-free stones that tell their names How lovely ‘tis to have a mother like you, one with a heart of gold who always has time and a Euro or two, for those who need a hand Your contagious laugh floats throughout the house as you show the photo of the cow you gave a family in Africa, and they named her Eileen Josephine, after you How lovely 'tis that you named me Veronica after your favorite purple and blue wild flower and to have seen your smiling face in the sea of people when I looked out from the stage, while my feet flew to the fiddles in the green costume, hand-embroidered with gold harps that you had made for me How lovely ‘tis to have a mother like you faithful keeper of the family’s old bits and pieces Aunt Christina’s handmade lace, Grandfather’s portrait the yellow and black china tea set that was only used at Christmas time letters and post cards sending kisses home from World War l. How eagerly you told me who gave what to whom, when, and why as you entrusted them to me, with strict instructions to keep all safe How lovely ‘tis to have a mother still living alone in your own home looking lovely in red, with the heat, lights and radio all on high cooking lamb chops, and feeding table crumbs to the songbirds you cannot hear How lovely ‘tis that you are well enough to celebrate your 90 years to read your birthday cards and letters of good wishes to march in place, give your salute, raise your glass to Ireland as you feel the vibrations of the pounding drums on television marking the 1916 Rebellion How lovely ‘tis for me to wish you, Eileen Josephine the great storyteller, my friend, my mother, your happiest birthday ever! First photo: Eileen Josephine at age 20 years, with late brother, Louie Earls Second photo: Mom at 85 years old, in her purple coat and red hat, enjoying a brandy. Third photo: Tending the grave of the 1798 Croppie rebels, County Carlow. NOTE: May 5, 2006 Eileen Josephine died in her sleep today, 39 days after her birthday. She looked beautiful, like a little Dresden doll. Twenty One of her poems will appear on this web site beginning in September 2006. View them under Eileen Breen's Poetry Pages. |
