The life of a beautiful soul
This month, a day I never really believed would come, came.
My great-Aunt Nora – or Sister Berchmans, as she was known to the countless lives she touched in a life of service and love – passed over peacefully on March 11th.
Auntie Nora would have celebrated her 103rd birthday on July 29th.
I know, I know. When someone reaches such a majestic age, we perhaps should be prepared for the news of their passing. But when someone has been such an important part of your life, for all of your life, the loss hits deep.
I had taken a road trip to Navan to see Auntie Nora just a few weeks before she passed, and although she seemed weary, she was still full of joy and love.
Many times I was called to say this could be her time, I’d make the journey, and even though she could hardly see or hear towards the end, she would say as I walked through her bedroom door “is that you Moira”,
And by the end of my visit somehow made a miraculous recovery and returned to her joyful spirit that her community were always so mystified and grateful for.
Incredible. Humbling. Moving. Magic like.
Auntie Nora outlived her six brothers and sisters by decades, and was the last of that generation in our family.
My Mum and Auntie Nora were the best of friends – like two peas in a pod.
Oh, we will miss her so much.
It's more than sadness of her passing, it's the end of an era. You realise that there are no significant elders here, they have all passed over now.
It makes you present to life so much more deeply.
She was not sick, she had no pain, she had a strong heart, it was just her time and nothing concerning forced it. And she would always have 4 sugars on her tea!
She took her last breath surrounded by the sisters who loved and cared for her like she was a Queen. Literally treated like royalty with the utmost tenderness and loving care.
Imagine that?
A life lived in service to God for 83 years. Pure devotion to her vocation.
I think of the impact her generosity of spirit had over many decades, not alone on all who knew her but the ripple effect on people she may never have met, my online community who never knew her were touched by her life also.
The Loretto community called her, “truly a lady ahead of her time who radiated kindness and joy wherever she went”.
Auntie Nora took the name of Saint John Berchmans, who “personified the ideal that ordinary deeds done extraordinarily well leads to great holiness”. And this is how she’s remembered.
Imagine being remembered that way?
Before she turned 100 almost 3 years ago, she was asked how she would like to mark her 100th birthday, there was only one place she wanted to be to celebrate the big day:
She told the sisters at the convent that she wanted to go one last time to her home place, Derryconnor, Gortahork, in the Donegal Gaeltacht.
I live in Derryconnor in the northwest of Ireland where Auntie Nora was raised, and we organised a three-day celebration at her home place to mark her centennial year. People came from across Donegal and farther to mark the birthday of a woman who had meant so much to them. Auntie Nora and an entourage drove 5 hours to Donegal.
While minding the restrictions that would be in place because we were still in uncertain times in 2020, when Auntie Nora celebrated her 100th birthday.
Still, with careful planning we were able to arrange for her to greet small groups of people safely.
And for 3 days, she was showered in love and an endless ‘sing song’ with all kinds of musicians offering to sit and play music for her.
That was a truly unforgettable, magical experience for me and my family. And pretty epic considering the state of the world at the time.
Something has gratefully shifted and changed in me since her passing that I am still understanding and contemplating. There is sadness of course. But I feel more present to the part of sadness that is full of hope, greater faith in the divine, appreciation of the little miracles unfolding all around us all the time. And the desire to be all I can be for the good of all.
So that I can too, take my last breath and say, I truly lived my life, really lived my life and did the work I was put here to do.