Memories bind us beyond life

When we lose a dear and much loved friend we can keep the connection with his/her spirit alive in the stories we recall and the memories we shared. On Saturday last we gathered with Peter Devlin's family to share a book of contributions of memories from those who had walked his life journey with him. The initiative was led by a friend of Peter's from his college years and I am grateful that this mutual friend had the courage to lead on this project and invited me to contribute. Peter died of Motor Neuron Disease (MND) which we all have become so familiar with because of the courage of Charlie Bird. But there are many not so well know people and families dealing with the same illness and Peter Devlin and his family were one . Like Charlie, Peter did not waste the long good bye and worked to raise, through swimming, money for research into MND. I am proud to have walked much of my life journey with Peter Devlin, through Maynooth, into and out of Priesthood , and through the years of building family and making at least some difference on the lives of others and the world we shared. I will always treasure the memories...........

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MEMORIES OF DEV......

This is probably the most challenging reflective piece I have ever tried to write. How can my words ever do justice to the life, beauty of soul and spirit, sense of adventure, love of nature and people that is my best friend, Peter Devlin. I write in the present because I believe that those whom we know and love continue in spirit with us as long as we hold them in our memory and our hearts.

In searching for a context within which to place my thoughts and to discipline the emotion of loss that captures me when I think of Peter, two words have become my anchor. One is the word “story” and one is the word “memories”.? Even with these two anchors I have struggled to shape around them a narrative that adequately captures what I want to say about Peter. In calling on the spirit of enlightenment to help me shape this piece I was graced with assistance in a piece written in the Irish Times by Sean Moncrief.

It is the human condition to share life, space, experiences and time with others.? They say we have no choice in the families into which we are born and limited choice in terms of the friends we meet in a job or on a sports field. We have choice when it comes to the family we co-create, to the lifelong friends we hold close, and to the friends we make and value as we search for meaning or seek out adventure on our journey through life. The experiences of our journey through life, that we share in good times and bad, in joy and in sorrow, in surprise and in shock, in achievement and in challenge, in birth and in death, create our story.? Each of us is a story. But it is a story co-created with those we love and hold dear, and with all who share a part of the journey we make through this life and this dimension of reality.? Our story, because it is shared, only ends when others stop telling it. ?Our story is a million stories stored in memory and recalled by time, place and happenings. The power of our memories keeps the shared story we have helped create with another alive.? As long as we called forth a memory and, continue to share in quiet reflection or shared telling a story, in which a loved one lost is a character, their story continues and their presence in our life never disappears.

I have come to believe that our story does not end in death. I have come to believe that we come many times to journey in this dimension of reality and living. The stories co-created in this particular life are rooted in previous lives and will continue in the future as those who have been our close companions in this particular journey walk with us in new adventures and advance the shared story with us in future lives. For this reason alone, the importance of keeping their story alive in the telling and in holding fast to the memories of shared moments, of shared challenges, of shared adventures can never be undervalued. But I also believe that their spirit never leaves us and our connection with Peter’s spiritual presence in our lives is enabled and strengthened by the memories we hold, by the smiles or the tears those memories call forth, and by the stories we keep telling that keeps Peter’s story from never ending.

So, in accepting the challenge of writing this piece, I began to create a list of all the triggers that open up memories of Peter Devlin for me, memories that will always keep me sharing Peter’s story in sharing the shared stories we have lived through.? Here I will share but a few, because I would never finish this piece if I tried to share all the memories, I hold precious of Peter. These few stories will not be organised in terms of importance, of date, or indeed of any logic, because they rest on memories that are triggered randomly and the joy, tears, laughter and sadness those memories may bring are enriched by the very fact they are random.? They are rich because they come as a surprise triggered by a place, an object, or a photograph opened on the phone or discovered in a drawer.? They are even richer when they come in conversation, in the telling of his story with others whether or not they knew him.

Family and Football

The first trigger arises from my mobile phone, from his birthday, and from todays All Ireland Final. I write this on July 30th 2023 and today Dublin and Kerry face each other in Croke Park. Peter’s birthday was three days ago July 27th.?? In my mobile phone I have five Devlin/Quinn mobile numbers; that of Peter, Fiona, Aoife, Orla and Oisin.

A standing comment each year between Peter and I was the fact that he was older than me by 24 days. The birthday texts exchanged always played on some aspect of that “considerable” age difference. I will never delete his mobile phone number from my phone. I don’t know what lies ahead for me in terms of health and life, but I hope if memory ever fails me a search in my mobile phone numbers will always keep Peter in my thoughts.? There is both laughter, sadness and tears in this trigger of two dates connected, his birthday and mine. The sadness is because we can’t exchange those texts this year nor indeed any year in the future. The 24 days between us should never have ended so soon. But the span of life that any of us enjoy is never known to us and it’s ending is more often than not beyond our power of choice.? I can only give thanks that we did share a journey through many birthdays.

But the memories triggered are also memories of joy and clarity. The most important reality of Peter’s life was that he found his vocation, his meaning and his joy in the love he shared with Fiona and in the talented, beautiful and caring family they birthed, love and nurture. ?Peter’s heart and soul is rooted in his Sligo Family. ?Meeting Fiona and the love bond that formed between them was the most seismic moment of change in his life. She became his North Star and for the first time he found his feet and his life to be on solid ground.

When Peter spoke of Aoife, Orla and Oisin, he spoke of pride and love for the unique qualities of humanity, intellect and emotional intelligence that defined them. Each of them enriched his life with their presence and he enriched theirs. In his darkest moment of illness, he worried about the burden his illness placed on them, and rejoiced and gave thanks for the love, generosity and strength they showed to him. ?He had his moments of frustration, his cranky moments, but who would expect otherwise, for the loss of so much independence that he treasured, was hard to handle. But even in those moments he knew that he could survive them because of the love of the Sligo family that he treasured.

To say Peter was a devotee of Gaelic Games and football in particular would be a gross understatement. From his arrival in Maynooth his love of Gaelic Football was legendary, as was the extreme caution players facing him on the field of challenge would exercise around him. The story of him missing a player he was about to shoulder and taking down a concrete post on the charge has grown wings over the years, but it stands as testimony to his dogged determination not to be beaten in a tackle and his character change when battling for the victory of his team.

Today, as I write, I know that regardless of who stepped out on the hallowed turf of Ireland’s Football Cathedral to seek SAM, Peter will be watching.

His love of football and his love of and pride in family are intertwined. The photos from the Mayo versus Tyrone Final on September 11th 2021 of Orla and Peter proudly wearing the Mayo colours at the game call forth the memory of his call to me when he was seeking tickets.? He had been diagnosed with Motor Neuron and was determined to honour a promise he had made to Orla to share time in Croke Park at an All-Ireland Final. ?Orla ended up also gaining much deserved stardom that day when a photographer took her photo, resplendent in the Mayo colours, and it ended up in the Newspaper. Fame and fortune guaranteed to follow!

Peter will follow the achievements and the continuing life journeys of Fiona, Aoife, Orla and Oisin with love, care and pride. He will, in spirit, walk with each of his family in good times and in the times of challenge. He takes particular pride in the energy and commitment they give to any task on a sports field, on the sea in sails, on the stage in song, on the academic ladder of achievement, and in work. He will watch in spirit and whisper prayers of blessing on their forever growing and evolving journeys that enrich their characters further as sensitive, caring and strong human beings.

Creating family is much more than giving birth. Peter and Fiona have nurtured the personalities, independent spirit, unique different gifts, and the strength of facing up to challenges that mark out Oisin, Aoife and Orla as special talented human beings with lots to offer the world they move through in life.

Nature, Tractors and the humble spud

The second trigger arises every time I lift a potato, walk a mountain path, listen to the roar of the sea along a beach, see or hear a tractor and stand reflecting in nature. In short, these triggers of sight, sound, feel and thought mean that Peter is omnipresent in memory as long as I have eyes to see, ears to hear, feet to walk, nose to smell and a brain to reflect and think. ?And from memory I can conjure up the stories wherein Peter is a character. ?

For example: the story of his extensive engineering skills and environmental credentials in the design of the chicken run in Aoife’s baby years.? We were visiting and I got drafted in to help. Peter valued chickens because of the potential to lift an egg for breakfast straight from the chicken house and I treasure the videos where he took my son Daragh and Aoife to the chickens’ van home for egg collection. His first foray into the design of a chicken run/pen however had a unique element, misguided perhaps but unique. It was meant to be an environmental positive; namely the use of Aoife’s biodegradable nappies to cover the ground inside the run/pen.? A brave endeavour to contribute to a more sustainable world …...but one that didn’t really suit the chickens nor the nappies! Biodegradable has since been a word on packaging that calls that experiment to mind.

?I have a treasured picture of standing with Peter in his “earth church” … his tunnel, his place of retreat and renewal in conversation with the spirit of growth and rebirth where seasons turn.? For Peter life could be summarised and touched in his tilling of the soil, his sowing of seeds, and his living off the fruits of his labour. I always think of Peter as a man with a big heart and even bigger hands; the hands that wielded the spade on earth, the hands that scattered the seed and tended growth. In reality his hands and mine are probably pretty similar but when I think of Peter I think of a man of the soil, a child of mother earth whose hands rejoiced in the dirt of land. ?Indeed, he never worried about having his hands clean! He had a unique gift of being able to hold order in one hand and chaos in the other. When the two hands joined the outcome was a sight to behold.

He was born of the mountain land of his native County Down. A “townie” he never could be .?

And while some refer to Murphys as the Spud Murphy, I think of Peter as the “Spud Devlin”. He carried the farming gene and his lifelong union with the humble but life sustaining spud throughout his life. In a very special way, the humility of the Potato echoed Peter’s personality. Peter is, in my view a man of great humility and one whose life was devoted to sustaining his own sense of who he was, but also sustaining those he cared and loved. Peter is, in my mind, always the best example of servant leadership.

Every time I put a potato on to boil, I think of Peter. I recall one time, probably around 1985, when we had moved into Celbridge. Peter was staying a few days with me and we were having steak, carrots and spuds for dinner. I was working down around Tipperary and on the way up stopped at a telephone booth (this was our means of telephone communication before the spread of mobile phones). I called Peter and was about 25 minutes off Celbridge. He started to cook the dinner and when I arrived the steak was well cooked, the carrots finishing and the potatoes just beginning to boil.? Peter’s approach to cooking changed over subsequent years, no doubt due to lessons from Fiona. But that evening we had a good laugh.

When I think of Peter by way of the Potato, I always think not of chips, or mash, but of the straightforward simple boiled potato, in the jacket that the earth gave it. Mind you even after a “bit of a clean” the jacket was only authentic if some soil remained.? Maybe my memory is wrong but I the pot of spuds was never measured; two each would never do so there was always more than what was needed. I attended a heritage week talk in a Paint factory that used to be the Celbridge Workhouse. One fact shared brought Peter to mind ; apparently in pre famine Ireland an adult could eat between 8 and 12 lbs of potatoes daily. Not sure Peter ever managed that amount but dinner for him was never quite dinner without humble spuds on the plate.

I have another picture on a key holder in my study of Peter and I leaning on a wall, on a beautiful sunny day and looking out over the fields to the sea at Killowen. ?He loves the open air, the green of grass, the rustle of leaves in trees, the lapping of waves in a shore, the feel of rock and stone under foot on a mountain path. Peter lived to breathe fresh air, no matter what the weather and his ritual of a walk, a cycle, or a swim were the source of his energy and vitality. Every night I leave my car keys on this key holder I smile at the picture, call Peter to mind and whisper a silent blessing that our paths intertwined.

In Spain on holidays when I began writing this I was thinking of triggers. Standing on the front balcony a large truck came down the hill outside the fence line of the resort and believe it or not on the truck was a big red tractor. Tractors will always bring Peter to mind because he loves tractors. If he had been a rich man financially, he could well have had twenty of more of them, antique and recent lined up in his back yard. Tractors and smoke and noise. Images in photos and in the mind of our son up front in the cab with him heading down the road, smoke belting out; of Daragh, Orla, Aoife and Oisin happy in the Linkbox (being a townie this was a new term to me) at the back of the tractor (was it a Massey?)…..happy memories of visits to Sligo and the ever present promise of the tractor ride.

Place, meaning and search.

A key trigger for memories and for stories is always going to be places, occasions. and the questions and challenges that life brings my way.

One great advantage now of the Apartment in Spain near Sucina is it is linked in memory and story to Peter. It is now a memory trigger.

I am delighted that Peter and I did enjoy time in Sucina for now when I go to Spain the place reminds me of Peter. Of course, every memory can also call forth regret and I regret that we hadn’t made that trip many times in the years of our friendship. But regrets are always about the past and the past cannot be rewritten.? So when regret arises I switch my thinking to counting the blessings of the moments we did share, the places we went to and the experiences we had.? But in my memory I carry the picture of Peter sitting outside Rosarios Restaurant in Sucina, (Murci, pint of beer on the table, big smile on the face, reading glasses on with sun glasses perched above them and beloved baseball cap sheltering what hair was left from the Spanish sun.? Looking from the Apartment across at our mountain sparks memory of the mountain trek we took and the awe we shared of the vista of valleys and mountains that lay beneath our feet on the summit. A drive to Cartegena him kneeling one knee on the ground for the picture beside the huge head sculpture. Up on the Mar Menor a trip for dinner to the restaurant on stilts sitting in the sea where he marvelled at the view and loved the wave music beneath our feet as we dined and wined.?

Back in dear old Ireland every drive North to visit my parents and siblings calls forth Peter as the hills of Cooley come into view. Here was his first Youth Ministry Centre on the southern shore of the border fiord in Omeath. Here too is a connection to our shared arrival at Ordination for it was in Omeath that my post Ordination dinner happened after we were ordained in Newry. Beyond lay the northern shore of the fiord and Seafield House Killowen the ??historic farmhouse that was the ancestral home of Charles Russell, the first Roman Catholic Chief Justice of the UK since the Reformation. Here was the second home for Peter’s work and mission in Youth Ministry. And overshadowing all are the majestic Mournes and nestled in the heart of the Mournes his birth place and first football battlefield of Cabra.

When I travel North Peter is beside me and in my memory the stories of times shared in these places are relived. Us two Peters were part of the “famous five “who arrived in Maynooth separately two in 1973 , two in 1974 and one in 1975.? The study for Priesthood draws together “searchers” ; individuals coming from different places, for different reasons , but all searching for meaning and purpose, and indeed a mission in life.? We five were all very different but because we all came from the one county and diocese we formed a bond over the six/seven years in Maynooth. My own memory is that my bond of friendship with Peter deepened when I delivered the sermon in 1979 at his dad’s funeral. My own delayed ordination and accidental stumble into youth ministry in Dublin seemed also to connect us. Peter had the courage to break with traditional parish ministry and against the norm of the diocese created an adventure into youth ministry, first in Omeath and then in Killowen. Both places kept him close to his football of course. Recently visiting my brother in Newry hospital I looked across the town at the Bosco GAA and in the silence of my heart said hello to Peter.

Peter is above all else a “searcher”, his life story is totally driven by searching for deeper understanding of himself, his purpose in this life, and meaning in what he did and the challenges and questions he would meet on the journey. When you set aside the trappings and arcane formalities that encumber Priests you begin to question the definition of vocation that was shaped in Maynooth.? Working with the energy, openness and challenge of youth expands and deepens that questioning. ?Maynooth had blessed him with friends who in different ways were searchers, some deeply intellectual, others like myself considerably less so. But around Peter there was always the excitement and the safe space of numerous friends to cushion and enrich his searching. Many of these friendships were forged in Maynooth; many more forged in the white heat of those challenging days living in Summerhill and working in Ballymun; many more in the learning and support circles that arose from his study and qualifications in counselling; and many again in the experience of living and settling in Sligo. His circles of friends seemed never closed; classmates from Maynooth, GAA comrades, neighbours, professional colleagues, sea swimmers, spiritual searchers .. the list is long.

Peter’s great strength is his capacity to make and keep friends. When I think of his Service of Farewell my abiding memory is the strength of friendship for Peter, Fiona, Orla, Oisin and Aoife that filled the church that day.? His friendships were the corner stone of his humanity and they embraced people across the spectrum of life, education, work and opinion. The image of?? his co-conspirator sea swimmers mounting the guard of honour, the GAA teams from Grange and Newry, the classmates from Maynooth, the neighbours from Grange and the spiritual circle he had helped form, all speak to me of how Peter’s great strength lies in his ability to connect and build relationships of re

Peter for me is a servant leader and his warmth, humour and competence formed the music of the leadership he offered. I never had the sense that Peter feels himself better or superior to others (except perhaps in relation to GAA!). Nor did I ever get the sense he believes himself less that others.? His was the simple truth lived out in his living; of being himself, making his contribution in his own unique way, and valuing the diversity of contributions received in his living from others.?

His openness to learning and changing was his lifesaver as he took the big decisions that gave meaning, purpose and clarity to his life post Priesthood. If there is a lesson for all of us it is to have the courage to embrace the changes that give energy, direction, greater love and happiness to our hearts, spirit and being.

Two special memories speak volumes in terms of Peter’s story and his ability to form special friend circles and to remain determined and strong even in face of adversity. The first is on Streedagh beach in Sligo, famous for its role in “Normal People”. It is the picture of the gaggle of Mad Ass Sea Swimmers (the 10am MASS group), led by Fiona, helping Peter keep his commitment to enter the Ocean no matter what the weather. We were visiting and had neither the courage nor the inclination to brave the cold waters so we stood in awe and shame on the sidelines. Our one role was to help Peter dry off in the car and in particular to dry his feet. I remarked to him it reminded me of Jesus and the Pope and the symbolic humility of drying another’s feet. While I do not even remotely pretend to be Pope or Saviour, I felt honoured rendering service to Peter that day. The second part of this connected story of friendship and commitment lay in the Peter’s Celebration Service held at his request in Maugherow Church. The MASS group, also known as the Splashers, were there clad in their their best quality dryrobes. They led the chant of healing that day. It was a chant of prayer and blessing that they recited with Peter at the ending of each sea swim during his illness. But the mental picture ?that is most powerful was the guard of honour ,outside of the church, formed by these Lords and Ladies of the Dryrobe Order of ?MASS , arms outstretched in the air, like swords of hope and salute, to our friend Peter. It spoke volumes of his and Fiona’s own quiet story of leadership and influence, of inspiration and of friendship that this group were present right until the parting moment.

It is that spirit of the “searcher” that draws Peter and others to the “wild places”. By wild I mean the places and the spaces in our minds that are “off the beaten track”. For Peter the joy of Sligo was the rich tapestry of such places and the “free thinkers” who in their thought and spiritual search created the wild spaces of mind, heart and spirit. Those “wild places and spaces “trigger memories of Peter and stories.? I only have to walk to the end of our cul-de-sac here in Celbridge and enter the forest paths, hear the sound of stream music, the song of birds, the rustle of leaves to remember walks and talks with Peter over the years in this space. Majestic Ben Bulben in picture or in view calls forth stories of visits to the mountain and his experience of leading other searchers in retreat and reflection. Every beach and the sound of the ocean calls forth the walks and chats on Streedagh Strand and his determination, even in dark days, not to miss the rejuvenating power of a “dip” in the mighty Atlantic.

His was a spiritual journey and search that had begun in the traditional and ofttimes limited “masculine” Catholicism of Northern Ireland, evolved while holding on to the essential truths of the Christ message of faith, love and charity, and as his life journey continued connected with a richer Celtic and Feminine shamanic spirituality. That spirituality opened up a part of his heart and energy to the creative renewal power of nature and came to embrace the earth goddess that nurtures the cycle of life and rebirth. In this search he formed another friendship group of others in spiritual questioning and search. They gathered to honour his Shaman spirit in the townland of Cloonaghbawn and I will forever remember Peter ‘s spiritual journey when I think of the drumming and firelight garden service, under the stars, that called his spirit to freedom and rebirth.

?When I meet a “free thinker” whose spirituality and approach to life, death and the never-ending journey of the spirit, I feel Peter present in that communion of conversation with me. We are all in our own way the people of the constant questioning, but some like Peter have shaped it into an art form that has help shape and sustain their own journey. As I write I recall stories that Orla, Aoife and Oisin told of being taken on Sunday walks of discovery over streams and fences, and sometimes even into the streams and ditches! That was so Peter. ?I recall standing with Peter in a viewing platform watching the Brent Geese on the wetlands of Drumcliff Bay. It is to this one place they in their thousands fly annually on pilgrimage from Canada. ?His capacity to marvel at the miracle of nature that brought these birds thousands of miles to the same place, on the same journey year after year, spoke to the truth that while all things might change , we need to remain grounded in that which offers stability and constancy ?in our lives. It rests in our own sense of ourselves, in our family , in ?true friends and in the places that nurture us. The heart will always remain constant if we hold the sacredness of the moment.

I recall the island wedding of Peter and Fiona on Inis Mor. ?Islands had a special cadence for Peter, for the pace of life slowed, the urgency of the day eased, and islands like mountain tops and beaches are the places where we can allow ourselves just “be in the moment”. ?The idea of being present in the moment was very much a mantra of Peter’s.

Peter forever finds solace in the silence of reflection and mediation, and in the words of poetry and song. When we spent that time in Spain together, he dictated the start of each day. He asked me to honour his morning ritual; the cup of tea, the quiet time in contemplation and prayer, and the reading of a poem. It was his way of grounding the day. When Peter needs space he asks for it; when others need Peter, he always creates the space they need.

While his soul has left this life journey for another, his ashes rest in a “memory cradle” in the wild grasses above Streedagh beach, at one with the earth within an ancient cairn. No other place could remotely capture as well the spirit of Peter. It is a place of great soul beauty and heart strength. Wild flowers spring up uncalled as seasons change. The landscape is rich in life and energy.

The North, South, East, West compass views from the “memory cradle” speak eloquently to? the themes of Peter’s living , his belief and strengths, and the places that shaped him. Standing there recently I reflected that the beauty and relevance of this place was so full of life and meaning that traditional graveyard settings pale in comparison.

The cardinal points of North, South, East and West are more than just compass points. In many spiritual traditions they are significant because they connect our spirit with, and invite in , ?spiritual energies, symbols and elements.

Looking North towards Streedagh Beach and Donegal the spiritual energies reminds us that Peter came out of the North and from this direction drew into his life wisdom, stability and grounding. It was from this direction he manifested the energy associated with North in Buddhism where North symbolises new beginnings. His journey into new life and work in Sligo and his Sligo family were his new beginnings

Looking West the island of Innishmurray stands alone on the Atlantic and unseen over the far horizon lies the US of A.? Peter loved spending time in the States. He has cousins and friends from Chicago to Florida. He was a student in Berkley in a “gap” year that helped cement his most important life changing decision. This spiritual compass direction of west awakens us to emotion, intuition and healing. These qualities deepened as he journeyed through life. In Buddhism the west speaks of passing and death, and all death gives way to new life. The western view of ocean and horizon is a call to the “wild” places of the unknown which he so treasured.

To the East the view is overwhelmed by Ben Bulben, his mountain, again a call to the “wild” places of stone, forest, turf bog and mountain. In Buddhism the spiritual compass direction represents enlightenment. Peter looked to the mountain and called in from the East new insights, inspiration and communication. It is no accident that a mountain is in literature the place where the human spirit embraces revelation.

Its spiritual compass power draws us to the rising sun and new insights, inspiration and communication, all of which speak to Peter’s character and life journey. From harvesting mountain turf, to leading spiritual retreats on the mountain, Peter led family, friends and clients up the mountain paths and trails. Some, including ourselves, journeyed in the tractor’s Linkbox up Peter’s Mountain.

To the South the view are the fields and farmlands of his adopted and beloved Sligo. This view speaks to the man of the earth and soil that he was, is and always shall remain. In Buddhism it calls forth the power of life’s warmth. The spiritual energies and gift this compass point offers us are passion, transformation and strength. Peter’s passion extended well beyond the football field, his daily living was always seeking transformation in himself and others, and his life story speaks volumes of his strength of character and will.

Fiona’s choice of a “memory cradle” for her beloved Peter is so authentic, real and true to the Peter we were privileged to know and love. This place is made sacred by his presence and its authenticity to his spirit. This “memory cradle” provides a grounding and physical focus for our shared stories with Peter. In its abundance of nature and living things, in the captivating beauty and significance of the views, this place and our commitment to continuing our story with him will call us back, time and time again, in soul prayer, spirit and physical presence to Peter’s “memory cradle”

His Story shall never end…..

And so, his story will never grow old

As our memories remain bright and undimmed,

Our story continues

Enriched and forever entangled with his.

His presence never leaves us

For his spirit still lives

?in the memories and the time shared.

His story offers

?lessons of how a life can be lived.

No matter what life’s length in days,

It is best judged by its depth of love

?and its impact

On others whose journey crossed his.

We are the keepers of the flame

We are the guardians of the memories

We are the storytellers

Who gather generations yet unborn

To remember DEV.

?The importance of the story, the strength of the memories, the attachment to place and people where stories intertwined and were co-created was made obvious to me in what I will always think of as the last walk of the grounds of Maynooth that I shared with Peter when he knew where MND would lead him. I remember that walk. It mixed tears with laughter, stories told with silence walked. He knelt on the grass of the football field in silence, hugged a tree in prayer and connection. He spoke of his fear and his lack of readiness to leave a family he loved, with so many adventures ahead of them to share. He was resolute in his determination to make every moment of each day that was left count. His courage in adversity was evident that day, as it had been years previously when he left Priesthood despite the difficulties he encountered.

His path changed because he had changed, and in that change, he had found love, the comfort of a soulmate and the richness of family co-created. He put down new and strong roots in his adopted Sligo. ??Courage and the readiness to stand against the expectations of others was a defining characteristic of Peter’s journey. His Priesthood did not fit the expected traditional pattern; his leaving for love and self-fulfilment defied opposition; his journey into professional counselling carved out new approaches in this important field of well being and health; and in his illness he took on a cause; - the cause of raising funds and promoting awareness of MND and embarked on a New Dawn in the cold waters of the Atlantic Ocean, with his wife and children swimming alongside.

I think of a poem he loves and drew comfort from in his illness, and of the relevance of its message in challenging me in my life:

“I will not die an unlived life

I will not live in fear

Of falling or catching fire.

I choose to inhabit my days

To allow my living to open me,

To make me less afraid,

More accessible;

To loosen my heart.”

Peter did not die an unlived life and in his conquering of fear he leaves all who knew him with a message for our own living and our own dying. And so, in gratitude, I say now every day; “thank you Peter for the friendship, the love, the challenges and the lessons. Thank you for inviting me to walk with you on your journey. Thank you for the blessings and adventures of that shared journey that we created. ?Thank you for continuing in spirit and in memory to be an important part of my own story. In thanks and in memory whenever I tell my story it will forever include you”

With you, Dev, my friend in spirit and in story

Peter Finnegan.