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  FROM BRAY TO ETERNITY

  A Memoir of a Life Shared

  Annette & Andy Halpin

  © 2012 ANNETTE AND ANDY HALPIN

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form or by any means—graphic, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or information storage and retrieval systems—without the prior written permission of the author.

  ISBN: 978-1-908817-72-3

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

  First published by ORIGINAL WRITING LTD., Dublin, 2012.

  E-Published by Emu Ink Ltd 2013

  Royalties from this Memoir will be donated to the Annette Halpin Memorial Music Bursary Awards for Young Musicians which is administered by South Dublin County Council.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  I would like to acknowledge all the help and encouragement I’ve received from Orla Scannell and Blaithin Keegan of the arts department of South Dublin County Council in bringing this book to where it is at. Without their willingness to row in behind me and back the venture in organising the launch it would not have been possible for me to have got it done. Their commitment to keeping the Bursary Award in Annette’s name going for the past two years is commendable, and their commitment to this project was and is much appreciated as was their willingness to help in organising the memorial concert of Annette’s music in 2010 which was the start of the Bursary to which royalties from the sale of this book will be donated.

  I also wish to thank Dave Kennedy of The Tallaght Echo who in the middle of a very busy period agreed to write the Foreword for me. To Fr. Derek Farrell I want to say thanks for allowing me to republish the article he wrote in the Traveller magazine after Annette’s passing and for all his help when we staged the memorial show in 2010. To Garrett and Steven in Original Writing a big thank you for all your help, a special thanks to Steven for the wonderful cover design he came up with for the book.

  To Annette’s mother Mary, who is thankfully still with us as this is being written I want to send my love, and thank her and Bill for the gift of Annette. To Annette’s sisters, Marie, Claire, Caroline and Louise and her brother Liam and all our neighbours and friends, particularly friends of Annette I wish to acknowledge all their support and good wishes over the last three years, it was very comforting and therapeutic for me to know how well thought of and loved Annette was.

  I also want to acknowledge all the love and support I’ve received from our children, David, Gina, and Robert since Annette passed away, it has not been an easy time for them losing their mother at a stage in their lives when her support in helping them guide our grandchildren would have been invaluable, but they and their spouses Ciara and Dave have always been there for me to help and encourage me along, and with the great pleasure and joy I get from our grandchildren, Senan, Ella May, Mina and Aara, life has not been as barren as it might have been. For us all as a family, trying to live without the huge presence for good that Annette was in our lives has I believe brought us closer together.

  Finally, and most of all I want to thank Annette for being in Bray on that sunny August bank holiday Sunday in 1965 when I was persuaded to forego the enjoyment of a football match, which led to a love match, and for allowing me the privilege of accompanying her on the earthly part of her journey for 44 years. It was a magical and unforgettable journey filled with love, and for still being there when I need her, as she was while we wrote this memoir.

  “All is Well”

  Andy Halpin.

  March, 2012

  FOREWORD

  The untimely death of Annette Halpin back in 2009 brought great shock and sadness to those who knew her.

  I had known Annette for many years. Not as a close friend but one who witnessed what she had achieved.

  Annette will be ranked among the many unsung heroes of Tallaght. Her zest for life and the joy she brought to those around her will be remembered by many.

  Tallaght is a unique place and for some reason many who came to live and settle here made huge contributions to the quality of life of their neighbours and community, Annette was one of those.

  She had a passion and a desire to improve life in this community and yet she never saw herself in that way. To me she was quiet and often appeared shy and always dignified but those qualities were her gift to those around her.

  In 1991 Annette joined a unique group in Tallaght. She was nominated and won Tallaght Person of the Year. This was the highest accolade anyone could achieve in our community and she won that award like so many others who have won it for her contribution to our society.

  Her death brought great sadness to her family but the fullness of her life, the joy she brought to those around her will always be remembered with great fondness. She goes down in the social history of our town as one of our heroes.

  David Kennedy

  Managing Director

  The Echo Newspaper

  Dublin

  NOTES ON THE WRITING OF “FROM BRAY TO ETERNITY”

  From Bray To Eternity is the story of two people who over the course of 44 years became one. I had no idea that meeting a beautiful young girl in Bray in 1965 would lead me on the journey it has done, but I am so very grateful for the trip.

  When Annette passed away in 2009 I was numbed by the shock and it took me several months to fully realize what had happened, that my life had changed forever and from here on I was on my own, on my own after 44 years of depending on Annette for almost everything in my daily life, a faithful confidant, companionship, encouragement, support in anything I did, sympathy, a shoulder to cry on from time to time, forgiveness, and most of all love, Annette gave me all of these things and much more, unconditionally and without complaint.

  When the enormity of the change in my life began to hit home I tried in every way I knew how to bring Annette back into my life again and keep her there. One of the ways I tried to do this was by writing. I tried to remember and write down on paper how our life together began. In my mind I went back to Bray in 1965 and without ever thinking at the time that I would write a book I began to put down as accurately as I could remember, the events of our meeting. After a while I found I was remembering things that were buried deep in my mind and it was at this time that I, one day in Bohernabreena Cemetery told Annette what I was trying to do and asked for her help in doing so, immediately I got what I have described in the book as a “thought intrusion.” I “heard” Annette’s voice in my mind saying, “I’ll be your ghost writer” it was said in a jocular way and I laughed at the idea of it.

  I continued writing and it soon became obvious to me that Annette meant what she had said, as I was getting prompts from her all the time and I was amazed at what I was remembering and writing. I know this all sounds like crazy stuff, but I know it happened and I really don’t care what anyone else thinks. We, (by this time I was sure Annette was helping me so I began to think of the writing as a joint venture) ploughed on with the writing of what by now I was beginning to think could be a book, and when it was finished and I read over it I was truly amazed that I had written what was on the pages, because even as I read it there were parts that I did not recollect writing, I found myself reading them as if for the first time.

  I sent the draft manuscript to four or five publishers over a period of time, from two I got the manuscript back unread with notes stating that one was not interested and the other only published commissioned memoirs, from another two I got nice letters complimenting me on how well written they thought the book was and how moving they found the parts which described Annette’s illness and passing and some other nice comments, but despite all their compliments they were not in a position to publish it. I let
it rest for a while and then before Christmas 2011 I heard an item on Pat Kenny’s radio show about self publishing and I thought it might be worthwhile to find out more about it. I approached the company mentioned on the radio show (Original Writing) and after getting further details I got the idea to self publish and donate the proceeds, if any, to keeping the Bursary fund in Annette’s name going. I approached Orla Scannell, arts officer with South Dublin County Council and she was very supportive about the idea, and the rest as they say is history.

  Basically this Memoir recounts our life from the moment we met at the foot of Bray Head until Annette’s passing from this life in April 2009. In it I have endeavoured to present the reader with an honest and entertaining account of the many high points, and indeed the low points that we as a couple encountered and surmounted over the course of the 44 years we were together, I have written about the beginnings of our relationship and the early years of our marriage, our extensive travels which included being fired upon and evicted from our hotel at the beginning of the intifada in The Holy Land, a season as mature couriers in France, Annette’s term as Tallaght Person Of The Year in 1991, the near disintegration of our marriage and how we went about saving it and the part our time in Dingle played in saving our marriage.

  I have also written about the extraordinary events that occurred before and after Annette’s illness and her heroic battle with the cancer that ultimately caused her to pass from this world. The strange and inexplicable occurrences which occurred before and after Annette’s passing and which indeed are still from time to time happening, convinced me, who was an unapologetic sceptic and cynic before November 2008 when they began, that life in some shape or form goes on after we depart this plain of existence, which is a great comfort as I know I will be reunited with Annette when I take my leave of this world.

  In writing this book I have tried to remember that no matter how many copies of it are sold it will only ever be read by one person at a time, so I have tried to write it in an as natural and conversational tone as possible, as if I was telling our story to that one person, which at this moment is you, so enjoy the read.

  Andy Halpin,

  March 2012

  CONTENTS

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  CHAPTER THIRTY ONE

  CHAPTER THIRTY TWO

  EPILOGUE

  FROM BRAY TO ETERNITY

  PROLOGUE

  The loneliness, the awful, awful loneliness and the sound of silence around the house; the empty rooms, except for the clutter, Annette was always on to me about the clutter, my clutter, which I was always promising her I would clear up “tomorrow” but now it doesn’t matter anymore, I’m free to do it whenever I like. The words of a song keep coming to mind, “freedom’s just another word for nothing left to lose.” How true those words are now. When you lose your lover, your soul mate, your other half, then you truly have nothing left to lose. All that made life worth living is gone. Things which once were thought important are not anymore. Suddenly you can see the true worth of every material thing you ever owned and valued – zilch!

  Every day you are haunted by the silence and the space you now have to occupy alone. There is a “sound of silence”; a buzz that constantly fills your head from ear to ear in the absence of any human sound or conversation taking place around you. The empty rooms which once were filled with the joyous sound of Annette’s voice and music are now as silent as deep space, and the emptiness only amplifies and gives life to that lonely sound of silence. But the cruellest reminder of what has been lost is the empty bed, the big, smelly, empty bed. That is a constant and painful reminder of my loss. A space we once filled with sensual joy and pleasure is now a crumpled sad reminder of yesterday’s passion.

  I haven’t changed the sheets since Annette passed away three months ago. That’s all I have left of her now, her smell, our smell, on the bed we had breakfast in every morning, we talked in, laughed in, argued in, made love in. But now all I have is the smell of our spent passion. And I want to keep that for as long as I possibly can, otherwise I may be overcome by the barely controlled and concealed panic that fills my mind, that fills my very being, when I realise that I will never see Annette again this side of the grave. That I will not hold her again, that I will not feel the softness of her body as I hold her tight to me, absorb her body heat into me as we make love, kiss her warm lips, or even just gaze at her as she lies sleeping beside me. All I have of her now is her smell, and I will keep and love that smell as much as I loved Annette herself for as long as I live

  She is still alive in her smell.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Annette passed away on the 14th April, 2009, after a three-month long battle with cancer.

  The years were good to Annette; she looked fabulous right up to her untimely passing. She was sixty-two but could have passed for late 40s. We were together almost forty-four years, forty-one of which we were married. We had three children, David, Gina and Robert, and three grandchildren, Senan, Ella-May and Mina.

  Forty-four years is a long time to spend with one person, but the years truly did fly by. I would have happily spent four hundred and forty-four more years with Annette. I never contemplated us parting. In saying that I’m not implying that everything in the garden was always rosy. Two normal people cannot spend a lifetime together and not encounter problems along the way, and so it was with Annette and me. We had our moments, but through everything that happened, serious and not so serious, the cement that bound us together was the passion with which we loved each other. It was the sheer physical attraction, the enjoyment and pleasure we gave each other in our love making. This physical attraction was something that was there for me right from the start of our relationship. Though I hasten to add at this point that we were both virgins when we married in 1968, thanks to Annette’s control of me mostly.

  Looking back on things now I’m glad she kept me in check. The sex, when it did happen, was better for the restraint we showed before marriage and it got better with every passing year. It’s what I miss so much now, and of which the big smelly bed is a constant reminder. A reminder of good times, of joyful times, of passionate times, times of warm embraces and long lingering kisses, of two bodies clinging together so not an ounce of the love they shared could escape. The bed is a reminder of arguments and making up, of fun and laughter, and a lifetime of lovemaking now at an end. A reminder that all that’s left to me now is a lifetime, or whatever is left of it, of climbing into a cold bed each night and staring at the space for so long filled by Annette, of reaching over to that space to embrace just one more time, the beautiful body that is no longer there, and the pain and tears that go with the now empty bed.

  I’m not looking forward to the rest of what I hope will not be a long life, the lonely years that stretch ahead of me are years I do not want. If I sound lacking in gratitude for the life I now have it’s because I feel I, we, have been cheated of what could have been, cheated of what our life together could have been in our latter years, the years we should have grown old together and enjoyed our g
randchildren as they grew into young adults and our children as they entered their middle years. It should have been a time for reflecting and giving thanks for the life we were fortunate to share. And for Annette it should have been a time to give free reign to the creativity she never had time to fully let flow.

  These years should have been our golden years. There will be no gold in them for me now, just years of reflecting on what might have been. Without Annette by my side, life has very little meaning or attraction for me now. All I can see ahead of me is a life of killing time.

  ********************

  I composed a poem for Annette’s memorial card which started: ‘Our journey began on a warm August day, the sky was blue not a trace of grey” and so it was that sunny Sunday, August 1st 1965, when I first set eyes on Annette Kennedy. She was a very beautiful slim, 18-year-old-girl, with greenie/brown eyes and long luxuriant auburn hair. She was in the company of her friend Mary Dunne, and I was with my friend Dennis Molphy and the setting was the foot of Bray Head.

  I had not wanted to go to Bray at all that day. I would have much preferred to go to Dalymount Park to see Bohemians play Stoke City, the big attraction being the great Stanley Matthews was playing for Stoke. But Dennis’s will prevailed and we ended up getting the train to Bray. When in Bray we did what all lads of twenty have a sworn duty to do – we sized up the female talent on the stony beach.

  After a bit of very careful beach-combing we found ourselves in the company of two young ladies. We stayed with them for a time, talking and so forth and then one of us, and after all this time I really don’t know who, wanted to disengage, so we made some excuse and left.

  We rambled around the beach area for a while and soon noticed that our two lady friends were always close behind us. As we did not want to resume the friendship and the two girls seemed to be tracking our every move, we decided that the only way to get rid of them was to pick up some other female company in the hope that they would get the message.