JUST after the New Year I did two of the most Irish things simultaneously - I saw someone off at the airport and then went straight to a funeral.
I almost felt like I was in a song. Ireland and the Irish.
My aunt’s funeral was on a bitterly cold day, a harsh, biting wind whilst we carried that coffin.
It had not in all honesty, been a happy life. Alcoholism is a horrible illness, eroding personality, emotions, function.
It ends with a lost person. Of course, there are myriad reasons why someone succumbs but when I was carrying that coffin I felt like I wasn’t just carrying individual disappointment but social ones too, lack of opportunity, class disadvantages, poverty and its many manifestations.
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