Waiting at the Door
I can’t explain so deep inside
The very fabric of my soul
Only a heart that grieves such loss
Can ever truly understand
It’s like you’re waiting at the door
Until a loved one comes back home
You feel a longing in your heart
When they appear the longing stops
But in a loss that never ends
You’re always standing at that door
You feel the longing in the breeze
So incomplete and never filled
I cannot find the words to say
Just what it’s like to want forever
Never seeing them again
Just always waiting at the door
Alison Mary Dunn
On wings of flight to realms unknown
the white soft downy dove has flown
Alone he soars, dips then dives,
revelling in the freedom of the azure skies
The watcher below is granted a glimpse,
a fleeting glimpse and marvels at the sight
Envious, oh, would that he might, be bathed
as the dove in radiance bright
His feet are firmly planted,
yet, in dreams, his wish is granted
Dream on watcher, one day you will be free
Together you'll fly, patience, wait quietly
When the time is right, the dazzling sun
will disperse the gloom of deepest night
J. Salloway July 1986 (for Memorial Service)
The days of my lfe were yours
My youth and the years of my life were yours
The love in my life was yours
All yours, forever yours
Be happy in the realms of our Lord above
I wish you joy and peace my love
Does your spirit roam free
In the place where you dwell
A land of white light, flowers and trees
With sparkling rivers and silver seas
Do you think of me?
Do you remember me?
Lost in the shadows of the past
I would the memories that haunt me could be stilled at last
When souls fly free if memories die
Surely love remains, the lasting flame
When my eyes grow dim
Come to meet me if you can
Take my hand and lead me on
Together forever
Blessed eternity
If we could have one lifetime wish, and one dream that could come true, we would pray to God with all our hearts just to see and speak to you. A thousand words won't bring you back we know because we've tried and neither will a million tears, we know because we've cried. You've left behind our broken hearts and precious memories too but we never wanted memories, we only wanted you xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
I'd like the memory of Conor to be a happy one, of happy times and laughing tines and bright and sunny days days
I just wanted to continue on Mairead's theme:
All of you will remember Conor's stories.
The one that always sticks out for me is the one about the nurse who decided to ride his motorbike around the long, wide corridors of St. Ita's.
Of course in the process, one of the patients was knocked down. Of course the next day, one of the doctors asked the patient how he got so badly bruised and managed to break his arm overnight. The patient told the truth and said, " I was knocked down by someone riding a motor bike in the corridor".
So, like any good doctor would do, he increased the patients medication because of these obvious new delusions.
Conor was a man who will never be forgotten by anyone who had the privilege of knowing him.
We all have so many memories of him, so I thought I'd share some of mine with you.
I remember him at my wedding-he told me that he had a Daniel O'Donnell suit, and couldn't wait to wear it! He spent the day with his video camera, filming the entire day. He used to play that video over and over, and phone regularily, to tell you what bit he was watching. His favourite bit, I think was Gráinne's prayer of the Faithful!!!!!!
When I was a student nurse, I had to spend 6 weeks working in St Ita's. All the nurses there called me 'Cruiser's niece'!! My first day there, he came over to see me, to make me feel welcome. He said he brought me lunch- and took a tomato out of his pocket!!!!He said it was in case I got hungry!!!!!
He brought me to the pub every night and introduced me to the locals....all were patients from the hospital!!!!
When he was a patient himself in Beaumont, I used to visit him every day. I used to leave with a pain in my side from laughing. He drove the doctors and nurses demented!! He was just up to his usual antics, telling all sorts of stories, and just having fun.
He was always the life and soul of a party- a party will never be the same again.
We all miss you so much Conor.
Love Mairead
Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glint on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you wake in the morning hush,
I am the swift, uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circling flight.
I am the soft starlight at night.
Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there, I do not sleep.
Do not stand at my grave and cry.
I am not there, I did not die!
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