It was cold, dark and rainy that November 2017 night as we left the Embassy. My mood did not fit the weather. The warm glow of a job well done wrapped itself around my stomach and spread out to envelop my whole being. It was all hard to believe that my scribbling had brought me here.
I had started to write to commemorate my father way back in 1976, a few poems to inscribe his memory onto paper. The first one was printed in the Midland Tribune on the anniversary of his death in 1977. I was delighted to see my words in print, a feeling that persists to this day! I returned to my university and thought no more about it until I fell in love. That led to more poems, some I laugh at now but some I’m glad I wrote and, who knows, some may even have had an impact on my future wife.
So forty years later there I was sitting in a restaurant with two of my sisters and one of my daughters, all of whom had flown over for the big event. My wife and other two daughters were abroad, unavailable. The conversation floated by me a little as my mind was back in the embassy room with the Irish Tricolour and the European blue flag forming a backdrop to my poems. The whole situation was a little surreal.
The words from that beautiful, sad, song by Tommy Sands, ‘There were Roses’, floated unbidden into my mind. ‘It’s little then we realized the tragedy in store’. Now, I admit, ‘tragedy’ may be a little strong, thankfully, to describe the events that were shortly to unfold.
Five months after my uplifting evening in the Irish Embassy I found myself in the less salubrious surroundings of a psychiatric ward here in Luxembourg city. A crash due to depression had stolen up on me and twisted my mind into such a state that I needed hospitalization. For two weeks I wondered what had happened, how could I exchange the Irish Embassy for a psychiatric bed in a matter of months? How had this happened? What exactly had happened?
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