Edwards - Evelyn

EVELYN

Maeve Edwards

ORIGINAL WRITING

2013 MAEVE EDWARDS

Photograph of Irelands Eye by Maeve Edwards.

Front Cover Script: Mire Edwards.

Kind Permission has been received from Gallery Press for the inclusion of Derek Mahons poem Everything Is Going To Be All Right.

From New Collected Poems (2011) The Gallery Press.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form or by any meansgraphic, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or information storage and retrieval systemswithout the prior written permission of the author.

ISBNS

PARENT: 978-1-78237-350-6

EPUB: 978-1-78237-351-3

MOBI: 978-1-78237-352-0

PDF: 978-1-78237-353-7

A CIP catalogue for this book is available from the National Library.

Published by ORIGINAL WRITING LTD., Dublin, 2013.

Printed by CLONDALKIN GROUP, Glasnevin, Dublin 11

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Thanks are due most especially to my friend, Mary Sheerin, for her encouragement and support in the writing of this journal, for her insightful suggestions and help with editing.

My thanks also to my friend, Carole Block, who proof read the manuscript with her unerring eye for accuracy.

A very special thank you to my friend from childhood, Linda Weekes, who provided me with a safe refuge in her home during Evelyns final months.

Warm thanks and affection must also go to Mire Edwards, Ethna Cantwell, Deirdre Manson, Pauline OReilly, Ruth Thompson, and last, but by no means least, my friends in my Writing Group, Pauline Brady, Eileen Casey, Geraldine Mills, Marie Gahan, and Mary Maguire.

A very special message of appreciation to my beloved sisters and brothers and particularly to my sons, Alan and Cian, who always make everything worthwhile.

I would also like to thank Evelyns many friends and in particular Margaret Hayden, Dave Dean and Kerry Power for their kindness and loyalty over the years and for the many memories of happier times they shared with us during Evelyns final months.

Thanks also to the Manager and staff of Elmhurst Nursing Home, Whitehall, for the care and attention they gave to Evelyn during her respite there, but in particular for making it possible for her to take up employment in their hairdressing salon from August to December 2007.

Thanks are due also to the staff in the Mater Hospital, Dublin who took such good care of Evelyn in the early months of her illness.

And finally, my sincere thanks to the staff of St Franciss Hospice Raheny. Their sensitive care of Evelyn and their unfailing support for all of us will forever be remembered with gratitude. If Angels exist then they are to be found in the Hospice in Raheny.

For Evelyn

PREFACE

When my sister, Evelyn was diagnosed with cancer in April 2007, none of us knew we were about to embark on a fifteen month journey with her. She had been trapped in what she described as a dungeon of alcoholism for a very long time and this diagnosis of cancer was, ironically, the very force that freed her.

Fifteen months is a very short time, but Evelyn was to pack more into those months than some people pack into a lifetime. She took her place once again in her beloved family, getting to know her nephews and nieces and re-connecting with old friends. But most importantly, she let us back in once more and allowed us to shower her with all the love we had for her. In return, she overpowered us with the love she had for each and every one of us.

Evelyn was a unique human being. She was the most non-judgemental person I have ever known and accepted everyone for who they were faults and all. She had an uncanny ability to hone in on what made a person tick and people found they could be completely themselves in her presence.

She was as skilful a hair stylist as our mother, Alice, was a dressmaker and her years at the helm of Mai Hair Fashions on the Clontarf sea front were probably some of the happiest of her life. It seemed to me at times that Evelyn was also running a counselling service, for her clients would often emerge from her hair salon not only looking better but also feeling better after the time spent with her.

Evelyn was a font of wisdom, mixed with a good dollop of common sense and a generosity of spirit and of pocket that knew no bounds. She also had a wry sense of humour that cut through the absurdities and injustices that life throws at all of us sometimes.

Evelyn faced her illness with bravery and courage and each of us, her sisters and brothers, extended family and her many friends, has a unique story to tell of those last precious months with her.

This is my story. Thank you Evelyn. What a time we had.

Maeve Edwards

June 2013

CONTENTS

Saturday, 21st April 2007

My telephone rings at 7.31 am. I note the time on my bedside clock and give a sigh at the early hour. It cant be anyone else but Evelyn. Timing is crucial for Ive colour in my hair and brown bread baking in the oven.

I lift the phone.

Maeve?

Her voice is husky, harsh, unlike herself.

Evelyn? Is that you?

I think Ive broken my leg!

What did you say?

My leg! I think its broken!

Where are you?

Im lying on my bed! Ive been lying here all night!

Youve lying on your bed with a broken leg?

Yes!

Why didnt you ring before this?

Because I couldnt remember anyones number. Anyway I wasnt sure if Id broken it. But Im sure now.

Why are you so sure?

Because its all swollen!

What were you doing?

I was hoovering.

In the middle of the night?

No, last night when it happened.

Why didnt you call an ambulance?

Because I didnt want them breaking down the door.

I sighed and asked the question that had been at the forefront of my mind since the conversation began.

Were you drinking?

Yes, I was!

Youre too calm, Evelyn! Do we have an emergency here or what?

She broke down then from my insistent, and cruel, questioning and started to sob.

Im in terrible pain! I really am. Please do something!

I knew then that this was the call Id been expecting for years. She and I had had many preludes to this call, but none of them had held this degree of urgency. Now here she was, at the other end of the telephone calling for help.

Hang up, I said. Ill call you back in five minutes.

I telephoned Una next door to Evelyns. She understood immediately that the situation was urgent.

Hold on! she said. Ill check to see if theres a spare key in the cupboard! I sat down on the side of the bed and imagined Unas 86 year old self coming out her front door and opening the broom cupboard which they shared. Her footsteps returned.

Maeve, theres no key. Her apartment is quiet. I can hear nothing. Whats happened? Her voice was calm.

Shes trapped in her bedroom, Una. She thinks shes broken her leg.

Oh the poor little thing. I havent seen her in days.

Ill call my brother, I said. Hell have a key! Heres hoping he has his phone turned on.

If theres anything I can do, just call me, she said.

Thanks Una. Ill let you know!

Michael answered on the first ring. Yes, he had keys. Yes, he would go down straight away. Yes, he would ring me as soon as he arrived.

I got into the shower, washed the colour from my hair, took the brown bread from out of the oven and waited for Michael to call me back.

Later he related to me what had happened.

He had let himself into her apartment and found her spread-eagled on the bed in the semi darkness, her leg at a strange angle, the ankle turned in, the knee where it shouldnt be. He had to be careful for at any moment she could decide that she didnt need an ambulance, and would insist on staying at home.