The long weekend - 3

The 3 of us were staying with friends of Mickey's family. They also lived out in the middle of nowhere, up on top of a mountain, near Ballingarry. I had my own room, so that was pretty luxurious. We had dinner (I'll be going over the food, in a later post..) at Mickeys house and met his parents and some other family members. Everybody was so welcoming. They seemed so impressed and grateful that we made the effort to come down for Mickey's anniversary. At first I didn't really see what the big deal was, but the more the weekend progressed, the more I realized how much it meant to them all. We went to see Mickey's grave after dinner on Saturday evening and it was probably the hardest bit of the whole weekend.

A slightly bleak picture: Walking up to his grave, with the wind blowing and being surrounded by green hills with a little church behind us and the dark clouds above, I honestly felt like I was watching a movie being played. Especially because Kate and Shellie and I were "reunited" again, on the other side of the world, in totally unforeseen circumstances.. Between the time of walking from the car to his grave (2 minutes) I first had visions of our little family of 5 or the "famous five" -as we also liked to call ourselves-(Mickey, Kate, Shellie, me and Jodie who wasn't able to make it over from England this weekend) over in Oz, in the sun living the life and experiencing at least one high everyday, for weeks on end. There was so much laughter, light, colour, good humour and such a sense of freedom felt by all 5 of us, as we were embracing every moment of this precious life..and then a year and a half later, it had ended and the beauty of life was dampened as the sight of his grave confirmed something that we all knew but couldn't seem to see as being something that is reality.. Micheal Sparrow, died aged 24.. It was freaky and the words: "rest in peace" just made me feel sick to my stomach. The movie in my head had ended and his death was suddenly real. The adventures that we experienced together and that he experienced, as he continued to travel and us 4 girls had left Oz and were all "settling" back into life back here, seemed to lead to that moment as we stood there looking at his name written in stone. It was so sad.

His family were so strong and they clearly didn't want any moping around or sadness. So Saturday night we went out to the pub, with his Mam and aunties. We were with a big group and ended up staying out till after 1. I was pretty tired by that stage.. after the big night on Friday, the journey that morning, meeting so many new people throughout the whole day, all the chatting and talking in the evening and then 3 glasses of wine.. It was quite a lot in one day, but I really was fine.

Sunday was the biggest day probably. The one that we had all been dreading. We went to mass at half 10. The church was pretty full and it was hard hearing the priest talking about Mickey, as having passed away. Other than that, it was very impersonal. I know that could be the nature of catholic religion, but I thought it was such a pity. Mickey was such an amazing guy, but that wasn't mentioned once. The impact he made on the people he met, wasn't mentioned. All that was said was how much he was being missed and how the family were grieving. The service didn't do him justice at all. But that's a whole a different topic to analyze.. After mass the priest said a few words at the grave with people paying their respects. Then everyone gathered at his parents house shortly afterwards, where we sat until 12 that night before going back to their friends house, where our beds were waiting.

The day turned out really nice, if I'm honest. There wasn't too much sadness. For 12 hours, we were sitting in their sitting room, drinking and eating. It was lovely seeing the support that came from all angles and how the whole community pulled together to make the day as easy as possible on the people who were closest to him. There were around 50 people in the house. The men were in the sitting room, drinking whisky and watching football. The women were in the kitchen making the food and filling the glasses all day. Spirits were high even though you could see how all the neighbours and family members were doing their best to pull his parents and Jayne through, which made the day more bearable. And it worked really well. People were laughing and joking and being merry. Which is nice. It wasn't until late Sunday evening, when people started to leave, that his parents and sister started to slowly break down. That was so sad..