'I was sleeping in the little room off the kitchen and I could hear all the muffled sounds of the men carrying the coffin in through the kitchen'

'I was sleeping in the little room off the kitchen and I could hear all the muffled sounds of the men carrying the coffin in through the kitchen'

Margaret recounts the night her grandmother passed away.

Margaret McLoughlin

Trinity College Dublin

1944

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Margaret McLoughlin

Childhood and Early Life

Life Story

Dromahair, Co. Sligo

1930s

There was always something happening in the village. The turf man came with a cartload of turf which we would buy but then we children had the awful job of bringing it into the shed as he would just empty it in the lane. How I loathed that job. Likewise we might get a cartload of blocks from someone who lived at the lake. Daddy would tell us if the wood was good burning wood some of it would spit or spark which wasn't very good. If the turf wasn't dry it was useless in the range. The sticks were a help but no good on their own. The best for the range was the coal but it was expensive. During the war years we got coal from Arigna mines which would come by horse and cart. They would also bring coal brickets which were made I suppose of coal dust and God knows what else. They were very hard but they gave a lasting fire. Still my mother cooked lovely meals in the range - the big roasts for the fair day and a roast chicken now and again. The bread was nice but when my grandmother passed away my mother would go to the trouble of making a fire in her little house and bake the bread in the pot oven. There was nothing like that bread or even a chicken cooked in the pot over with the coals on top tasted divine. I remember well the night my grandmother died . We children were huddled in the room and there was great coming and going. Some neighbour was minding us but we were very frightened and I still hear the prayers of the dying being said and then the rosary and then we were told. I was sleeping in the little room off the kitchen and I could hear all the muffled sounds of the men carrying the coffin in through the kitchen and bringing her into the room to be waked. It was very frightening and I couldn't sleep but my father came in and put his hand on my forehead and talked quietly ( as only he could) and eventually I must have nodded off. That was the first dead person I saw and I didn't like it. I also remember when my grandfather died. He had a lovely death as he had got up as usual that morning and just died in his chair.

Irish Research Council for Arts, Humanities & Social Sciences (IRCHSS)

Dr Kathleen McTiernan (Trinity College Dublin)

Dr Deirdre O'Donnell (Trinity College Dublin)