Meet my Beloved Dead – Part 2

William Kenna – The Irish Rascal

My Beloved Uncle Willy wasn’t family by blood, he married my Mother’s sister, but we were very close…

My aunt, June, and my uncle never had children of their own, so my brother and I were doted on and spoiled rotten by them… I was always my uncle’s favourite niece…

He used to tell me I had a bit of Gypsy in me…

My uncle was Catholic… A good ol’ Irish boy who hardly ever missed Mass… A memory I will always treasure is Midnight Mass… The candles flickering, the curling plumes of incense, the ceremony, the atmosphere, the icons, the reverence… The pierced dying God-man upon his cross, staring down at himself as a babe wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger…

Another memory drifts back to me now… It’s a warm summer morning, the red-breasted robin has visited the kitchen window for it’s breakfast again, and my uncle and I slip out into the Cornish fields… The grass is damp beneath my bare feet, tickling my toes…  He is to teach me how to feed sugar lumps to the horses… How to hold my hand properly, even if it tickles…

He loved to drink… What good ol’ Irish boy doesn’t?

He’s regulary given Guinness, and good Irish Whiskey…

I prefer a good single malt Scotch myself…

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