It has been six months since Alfie left us. I’ve wanted to write about him, to pay tribute to the person he was . . . he is . . . he was. But how to encapsulate Alfie in words, and how to write anything without having Alfie himself proofread it for me as he did with pretty much every important thing I’ve ever written! There just doesn’t seem to be words enough to describe the massive void Alfie has left in our lives. As a close friend said to me “I don’t have the equivalent of an Alfie in my life and I don’t know many who do”. I suppose I was lucky in that regard.
Today I would like to attempt to pay tribute to what a special person Alfie was to me and say how fortunate I was to have had him for the length we did. Most importantly, I don’t want him to be remembered for his struggles or for his tragic end of life. I want him to be remembered for the joy he brought and how he enriched all of our lives through the authenticity with which he lived his.
I’ve been commended for the support I gave to Alfie throughout his life but what I want everyone to know is it was Alfie who, in the midst of all the challenges he faced, was the support to me. This began very early in my life, when according to Mammy he was great at putting me to sleep as a baby. He was very patient with me, the always hovering younger sister. He saw the comedy in my terrible acting skills as I played a lead role in our home movies. I remember him complimenting my reading fluency as I read aloud from a Stephen King novel of his at about 7 years old. Because of him, I got to see lots of movies I otherwise wouldn’t have, Platoon being an early favourite!
In first year in secondary school, we were asked to write about someone who had influenced us and I wrote about him . . . “I’m not saying he’s a perfect bother, but he’s a very good one!” (See photos of said essay attached).
Myself and Alfie lived together for much of my early years in Dublin. He could get along with anyone and had friends from all walks of life. Alfie was the master of a sing song with a powerful voice and a repertoire of unique songs, some haunting, some hilarious. Our duet of Christy Moore’s ‘Ride On’ goes with him to the grave, which is fortunate given my inability to hold a note. His sense of humour was unrivalled, but never cruel or at the expense of others.
In more recent times. Alfie was by my side as I navigated the significant challenge of motherhood. People say it takes a village to raise a child. Alfie was my village - a baby whisperer and a toddler tamer. A caring and fun uncle to all his niblings, always meeting them where they were at. There was no one kinder to you or better to be around when you were sick or feeling low. He’d have some sort of remedy or kind words to pull you up.
A huge comfort to me these past few months is knowing that Alfie left this world in no doubt of how much I loved and valued him. I loved Alfie so much in life, I feel no need to glorify him in death. And yet, I want everyone who didn’t have the fortune of knowing him to understand how special, unique and exceptional he was.
He was my confidant. The least judgemental person you could find, and the most compassionate. A champion for the underdog. My voice of reason. A sounding board for all my rants and worries. Always listening, always fair. Ever gentle. My brother Alfie.
I hope you are resting in the peace you so wholeheartedly deserve.
I’ve been commended for the support I gave to Alfie throughout his life but what I want everyone to know is it was Alfie who, in the midst of all the challenges he faced, was the support to me. This began very early in my life, when according to Mammy he was great at putting me to sleep as a baby. He was very patient with me, the always hovering younger sister. He saw the comedy in my terrible acting skills as I played a lead role in our home movies. I remember him complimenting my reading fluency as I read aloud from a Stephen King novel of his at about 7 years old. Because of him, I got to see lots of movies I otherwise wouldn’t have, Platoon being an early favourite!
In first year in secondary school, we were asked to write about someone who had influenced us and I wrote about him . . . “I’m not saying he’s a perfect bother, but he’s a very good one!” (See photos of said essay attached).
Alfie introduced me to great music, great books and great coffee. He had the sharpest intellect I’ve ever come across and could talk at length on pretty much any topic. I once asked him to proofread a philosophy essay I had to write for college (hadn’t a clue what I was on about) and by the time he had finished it, he might as well have written it! We both love (loved? - still find using the past tense for Alfie so difficult) words and permanently had a game of online scrabble on the go (which he usually won!) and every so often we’d take a notion to tackle the Irish Time Cryptic crossword, though rarely finishing it!
Myself and Alfie lived together for much of my early years in Dublin. He could get along with anyone and had friends from all walks of life. Alfie was the master of a sing song with a powerful voice and a repertoire of unique songs, some haunting, some hilarious. Our duet of Christy Moore’s ‘Ride On’ goes with him to the grave, which is fortunate given my inability to hold a note. His sense of humour was unrivalled, but never cruel or at the expense of others.
In more recent times. Alfie was by my side as I navigated the significant challenge of motherhood. People say it takes a village to raise a child. Alfie was my village - a baby whisperer and a toddler tamer. A caring and fun uncle to all his niblings, always meeting them where they were at. There was no one kinder to you or better to be around when you were sick or feeling low. He’d have some sort of remedy or kind words to pull you up.
A huge comfort to me these past few months is knowing that Alfie left this world in no doubt of how much I loved and valued him. I loved Alfie so much in life, I feel no need to glorify him in death. And yet, I want everyone who didn’t have the fortune of knowing him to understand how special, unique and exceptional he was.
He was my confidant. The least judgemental person you could find, and the most compassionate. A champion for the underdog. My voice of reason. A sounding board for all my rants and worries. Always listening, always fair. Ever gentle. My brother Alfie.
I hope you are resting in the peace you so wholeheartedly deserve.
❤️
ReplyDeleteJenny - a truly moving piece on Alfie.
ReplyDeleteYou write so well.
In town today with my friend Dave for coffee we were talking about Alfie and the gap that he has left.
Like yourself, I always viewed Alfie as someone who gave much more to others than he ever took from them.