My mother had seven children.
These children in turn produced thirty grand children for her.
She spoiled and loved all of her children, she adored and spoiled all of her grandchildren, they all in turn adored her.
They all used every opportunity to visit her and on certain nights of the week she used to hold a Racing Demon card school in her house where you could always find ten or twelve of her grandchildren battling it out with her on the dining room table.
She was no mean player herself and all kindness in her personality disappeared when she played cards. You began to realise that the ruthlessness of a successful captain of the Irish Ladies Hocky team was still a part of her personality.
Now this never showed in her dealings with her various offspring away from the card table. I remember once when my three daughters were staying with her as my mother went to put them on the bus back to Waterford the youngest burst into tears.
Granny,when she discovered that she was nervous of going all the way to Waterford on a convyence without a loo, immediately packed the three of them into the car and drove them to Waterford, about four hours there and back.
This was when she was in her eighties!
She used to rule us all but without ever a cross word, using a subtle mix of velvet glove and emotional blackmail to keep us all in order.
She died ten years ago about this time of the year and three or four years ago her loyal grandchildren, now mostly established in their lives, in their twenties and thirties, decided that they should hold an annual dinner in memory of Granny.
They knew that Granny, who had a huge sense of the importance of family, would love this get together in her honour, and would think it her best memorial.
Last year for the first time the grandchildren decided that they should ask the “oldies” that is my generation, their parents, uncles and aunts to the same memorial dinner.
It was a great success, they decided to repeat the same this year which happened last night.
So about 28 of us, of extremely mixed generations, met for dinner in The Corn Store in Cork’s Coal Quay last night .
It was a terrific night out, the restaurant did us very well and the company was mighty good. I couldn’t help looking with some pride at this great generation, a lot of whom I would have babysat for, burped and changed as infants who are now not only capable of getting on togther with great good humour but are also prepared to get along just as easily with the older generation to which I belong.
Granny would have been delighted!
Well done to Peter and Tara for organising a great night.